Into The Fire
by silverwolf0519
Summary: The story begins before the events of An Unexpected Journey. Hana, after leaving her adopted home, meets Thorin by chance while traveling alone. A grudging alliance forms between them, which ultimately grows into a fiercely loyal friendship and ardent love. ***Begun 7.19.13, thanks for reading. Constructive criticism welcome!***
1. Because You Are Alone

Hana walked the dirt road, further and further into the village. She was on high alert, though she saw nothing suspicious close by, she was also a woman, alone, and kept her wits about her and senses heightened. She inquired as to where a blacksmith could be located, and a withered elderly man, obviously suffering from acute strabismus, said there was one off of Pigot Lane, at the end of the narrow main road. Hana watched her step, striding determinedly in the direction the man had pointed her. Her boots avoided stepping in the fresh horse dung and waste that the villagers had left in sporadic piles along the curbs. She had to stand right underneath the signs to read the weather beaten, run down marks indicating the road name. Considering where Hana had travelled, this hamlet was fairly well populated and kept. There was an inn, tavern, and a limited market. Not six days prior, Hana had passed through a ghost town, covered in thick fog. The only sign of life she had seen there was a raven squawking threateningly at her from the windowpane of an abandoned hovel. Following the old man's directions, Hana found Pigot Lane, walking gingerly toward the smithy. The building was stone, with the wooden roof. The slats in the roof bowed alternatingly. Something about it made her apprehensive. Hana felt her arms and the back of her neck prickle as she approached the place. She frowned as the looked the door; the tarnished sign simply read "Metals". Hana took her chances anyway, keeping her only remaining sharp knife in her belt as she paused, and knocked on the door.

The knock sounded louder than she thought she had knocked. Hana waited; there was no sound for a moment. She glanced at the windows on either side of the door, and saw a faint light somewhere behind the right one. Then footsteps, heavy ones, inched closer and closer until the door opened with an indignant jerk. The man who opened it was tall, at least to Hana, who stood at barely 5"4. Hana noticed his large hands, dirtied by work and riddled with little nicks and cuts all over the knuckles. She took a step back, intimidated slightly, but stood tall and looked him right in the eye. The man narrowed his eyes for a moment, seemingly not expecting to see a woman at his door. He exhaled, exasperated, and bellowed, "What is your business here?" He shook his head, tired and flustered. "I'm through for the day. Come back in the morning. I'll resume work at daybreak." He was about to close the door on her, but Hana stopped him holding the door insistently. Speaking just as forcefully, she replied, "Wait, sir, if you please, I need these sharpened. This is the only place with a smithy I have come across in over a week's travel. I'll be gone as soon as you finish. I have a few small trinkets with which I can pay and I will not trespass on your time further." The door was open just enough so his figure did not block her view of the shop. Hana noticed a very small fire, and what she assumed was his work table. The forge must have been somewhere in the black. The aroma of sweat, burning firewood, and hot metal filled her nostrils. The man rolled his eyes a bit, but then caught Hana's again. They lingered on her a little longer than made her comfortable, but Hana remained as composed as she could. She could not deny, beneath all the dirt and grime he was ruggedly handsome. He scowled at Hana, briskly wiping his hand on a rag attached to his belt.

"What would _you _need knives for?" he snapped.

Now Hana took a threatening step forward. Why would he ask that? "I pick my teeth with them," said Hana, stone faced. He noted her sarcasm, and raised his brows ever so slightly at her. "I need them to cut things, _obviously_. I also, on occasion, use them to kill." She looked him right in the eye again, fuming this time. The man held the rag in his slightly raised hand for a moment. But a glint in her eye made him think she probably was not joking.

"You don't give up easily, do you?" The corners of his mouth curled up, hinting at a smile.

Again Hana scowled. Was this insolent stranger mocking her, again? She couldn't think of a good retort fast enough.

He nodded his head towards the inside of the shop. Hana did not move. "Come in. Please. Forgive me for the harsh words. It has been a long day." To show Hana he meant it, he stood with his back pressed against the door, opening it for her.

Hana walked in, cautiously. She paused for a second, about halfway to the door's end, looked up at the blacksmith, and rolled her eyes. He watched as she leaned down and in a flash, pulled a long dagger from her pack, which she had lowered to the ground. Then she took a short but jagged blade from a leather forearm band. She removed the last somewhat sharp one she possessed from her belt. The whole time, the blacksmith watched as Hana purposefully laid each one on the rectangular unevenly surfaced wooden table. When she was done, twelve blades ranging in size from the length of her forearm to the length of her thumb were out. He wondered how she could conceal that many, let alone use them all.

"How long will this take you? I don't want to use up too much of your time, sir. I can see you're clearly terribly busy," Hana said, mockingly furrowing her brows. Then she reminded herself to ease up on the insults. Why stoop to his level? She was there to have her blades sharpened and go.

The blacksmith, who had been standing on the opposite side of the table, arms crossed, looked at her again, another one of the longer glances that caught Hana a bit off guard. But she looked back. She could not look away.

He walked forward and picked up the longest blade, running his thumb across the edge and then admiring the detail on the handle. The knot work design caught his eye. "You won't be killing anything with this, ma'am. It won't even leave so much as a cut." He showed her the thumb, no fresh cuts on it, barely raising his brows to prove a point. Looking through the rest, he told her, "I can work on these right now, if you wait here, I can have them done for you by morning. What is the name for the account? He grabbed a small book from the ledge above his fireplace.

Hana frowned. She watched him open the book, dab his quill in an inkwell also on the ledge, and look at her, waiting for an answer. Why would he work all night? "It's Hana. I can go find a room at the inn…what's _your_ name, sir? I like to know whom I am doing business with. "

The blacksmith finished writing up the details of the job in his book and closed it, held it in his brutish hand for a second, and looked at Hana. "It's Thorin," he said, looking straight into the fireplace. Then he turned to face her, took two slow steps toward her and stopped. "My name is Thorin. Do not trouble yourself going to the inn, there's little chance of suitable vacancy. I can tell you it's also not the safest place for a woman, alone. As I said before, you can stay here 'til morning. I won't bother you except to hand you the finished blades. I swear it." Thorin did not look away. Neither did Hana.

Hana had spent night there, though she had reservations. How did she know she could trust him? He did not have what she would call a kind countenance about him. Thorin did indeed work mostly through the night, and as Hana tried to make herself fall asleep, she opened her eyes periodically to see him sitting at a worktable back in the forge, rapidly sharpening a blade. Then he would stop, look over the piece, run his fingers over it, and begin again. She was so tired from her travels; she should have fallen asleep immediately. Her feet throbbed, even with her boots kicked off. But she did not go to sleep so easily. She flopped onto her back, resting on a rickety wooden bench underneath the front windows of the small house. She counted the cracks in the withering wood beams. Thorin…._Thorin. What sort of a name is that? Did he have any family? This must be where he lives, or at least where he spends a good deal of time. _Hana had lost track of how many she spotted when she leaned her head over slightly, to glance at the blacksmith. She realized the scraping, tapping, and buffing sounds had stopped. He had fallen asleep, slumped over the table. Hana could hear him breathing all the way across the tiny hut. Eventually she rolled over onto her side, back to him, and listened to the sound of an owl somewhere outside the window just above her. Fatigue claimed her and she fell asleep.

Warm, dusty sunlight shone on Hana's face the next morning. She opened her eyes and gave a sidelong glance upwards, not focusing on anything, recounting the events of the last twenty-four hours. How did I arrive here, she thought, flexing her toes. They still hurt with her boots off, long numbed from having been constricted for days at a time. Then she realized she felt warmer than she had when she had finally fallen asleep. A heavy wool blanket covered her. Hana did not bring this with her. And she had not retired for the night with it. Had Thorin covered her in the night? Then Hana sat up, bolt upright. The smithy was silent, except for the sounds of the morning outside. She got up off the bench and looked round, tentatively walking toward the forge. He was not there. The only other place was a very small room off of the forge, barely twelve feet square. A long bed stood against the windowless wall. On a small ledge above the bed were a couple of candles, and a neatly folded blanket. Beside the bed were a pair of boots, seemingly huge compared to her own. Hana stood in the doorframe, and surveyed the tiny space. He probably did not have a family, if this is where he lived. She had to go outside and find some sort of food for the day, but wanted to let him know she planned to return to collect her blades and pay him. She found a crumpled bit of paper beside his bed, and managed to flatten the creases out a bit. Walking to the main room and borrowing the quill above the fireplace, she wrote, "Out in the woods. Will return to collect my blades and repay you. Need to hunt and wash up. – Hana." She left it on the old table in front of the now extinguished fireplace.

Hana started down Pigot Lane, the dreary sound of the crows following her. She felt her belt buckle to make sure she still had the one sharp blade left. She had a small quiver on her back with six arrows left in it, but always used it as her secondary weapon, as she was not as adept as an archer. Remembering that was all she had, Hana told herself to keep the game very small. Perhaps there would be no game at all this day, just plants. Hana kept her eyes ahead of her, not making any eye contact with the few villagers she passed, though she could feel eyes on her. She passed the tavern as she aimed for the woods, ignoring the rude catcalls of a patron readying his horse out front. The air was brisk and sharp, and Hana knew the season would be changing to winter before too long. She needed to move on soon. After about twenty minutes through an overgrown field and into the fir forest, Hana slowed down her pace a bit, moving slowly and purposefully through the brush. She was careful not to make any sudden movement; as to scare off any rabbits or squirrels she could catch. Hana had perfected her almost silent step, having spent so much time on the move. She peered round the towering firs for signs of possible game. There was not much, besides more indignant ravens. She spotted a large owl looking at her, as if to threaten her for encroaching onto his territory and his prey. It positioned himself to her left, as if issuing a challenge. It suddenly flew off, flapping, without warning. It had been spooked by something. Hana was aware that the ravens had fallen silent. She heard nothing but the faint hum of the chilly wind, which she could see in her breath in front of her. Something made her apprehensive, and it was not the woods. She listened as she stepped in the woods, and felt eyes on her that were not animal. Hana turned slowly over her right shoulder, daring to look behind. She saw nothing. The same owl she saw, now right in front of her on a thin tree branch, continued to stare. The woods were eerily quiet. A sudden screech from the owl and its flapping wings were her only warning. Hana heard the running footsteps behind her, and took off, running deeper into the forest. In a flash she saw the stealthy vagrant, running after her, with somewhat of a hobble. He was not much taller than her, but moved fast for someone so malnourished looking. He was wiry and determined. Hana could outrun him if she did not trip. She leapt over the rocks and fallen tree limbs and could spot a rushing stream in the distance. She was going to climb up one of the lower hanging branches and shoot him. Suddenly, he appeared in front of her. How he had changed course without her hearing she did not know, but he stood in front of her about four meters, knife raised. Hana did not crouch down to grab a rock to throw at him, but if she could back him up to the stream, perhaps he could fall and she could shoot him. He did not hesitate, charging her and knocking her to the ground, slicing her right thigh to disable her. He tore at her clothes, mostly her cloak. She furiously scratched at him, using jerking body movements to her advantage, and spat at him. In the split second he closed his spittle soaked eyes she kneed him hard in the abdomen, cursing herself inside for not hitting lower, where she had intended. She got up and elbowed him hard in the head as he was crouched down on the forest floor, looking at her, enraged. Hana fought without pause. She did not know if all he wanted was her cloak, boots or her weapons. He could rape her and leave her dead and mutilated out there for all she knew. Hana grabbed his knife and turned toward him, her back now to the stream, pushing him back toward the tree. He sprang up, not what she was expecting, and clobbered her on the face with a small rock. She fell to the ground, on one knee, and reached for the knife she dropped when he pushed her against the tree trunk. Another blow came to her jaw; a raw, hard fist rattled her teeth. Her feet kicked furiously as she fought him, her boots grinding into the dirt and fallen leaves. He violently bashed her head onto the trunk, and Hana bit into his forearm deep, drawing blood. She felt her teeth break his skin and did not relent, holding the bite unflinchingly as she crushed down with all her might. His rancid breath clouded her face as he now grabbed at her neck. Hana pushed the heel of her palm into his jaw while digging her fingers into his eyes with the other, to get him to loosen his grip, which was tightening. He smelled of body odor, soil, urine, and rotting teeth_. Fight, keep fighting, don't relent, don't tire. He's going to kill you now. FIGHT. Don't die here. _ Suddenly his grip loosened entirely. He weaved backwards on his knees, and it took Hana two seconds to realize a hand axe had embedded itself in the vagrant's back. Gathering her shaking breath, she scanned the woods ahead of her to see where the weapon had come from. Another assailant? Hana did not think she had the strength to fight another off. Her breath labored, she propped herself up on her bruised elbows to see Thorin walking toward her, intermittently glancing at her and the vagrant, lying on the ground, twitching as his blood slowly soaked the ground beneath him. Thorin looked at the cloven man on the ground, then at Hana, waiting for her action as he took a few more steps forward. Hana caught her breath, stood up, and stumbled on bruised legs over to her attacker, who was lying on his side. She bored her eyes into his, filled with contempt, and wrenched the hand axe from his back. Hana raised it, and delivered three relentless blows to his skull before the twitching stopped and her attacker laid motionless.

She dropped the hand axe, wheezing, and steadied herself on the tree as Thorin walked over to her. She sat down, her back to the tree again, trying to catch her breath. Her lungs burned, chest hurt through the bruises, and her jaw throbbed. Every inch of her body pulsed with pain. Warm blood trickled down the side of her face. She opened her eyes as Thorin sat down in front of her. Hana instinctively recoiled, and he raised his hands in surrender. He waited a moment, looked down and reached for a rag in his pocket, and said, "I won't harm you. I hope you know that by now. _He_ might have killed you. Why didn't you just give him what he wanted?" Thorin reached over and took her hands one by one, turning them over, surveying the cuts, scratches, and bloodied knuckles. He lifted her chin to see the bruises forming where her assailant had struck her on the face and jaw. Hana winced and held her hand up to wave him off. "I did not give him my cloak or boots because… (she closed her eyes to breath) because without them, _winter_ will kill me. For all I know, that might not have been all he wanted." She muddled through the words with staggered breath now, her head throbbing. She did not want to talk. She wanted a large drink of water and the pain that wracked her body to stop. Thorin noticed the large gash in her right thigh, fresh blood oozing from it as her leg constricted underneath her trousers. He looked up at Hana, not hiding his concern for her in his glance at all. He carefully took one of the bits of cloth he had retrieved and went to wrap the wound, when she shrinked back again, startled. She was not accustomed to a man's touch. He stopped, and waited until she looked back at him with a curt nod. He slowly, carefully wrapped the wound, tucking the edges in to the makeshift bandage to fasten it, and looked up at her. There was warmth and humanity in his look at her when he finished, as if waiting for her to say something. He gave her another piece of cloth wipe the blood from her face, and her aim was off. Hana missed most of it, and he raised his eyebrows at her ever so slightly as if to ask permission to help. He held his hand out for the cloth, and Hana gave it to him. Normally she would have hated feeling so helpless, at the mercy of another person, let alone accepting this sort of help from a man. He dabbed gently at the side of her face that had been hit by the rock. "How did you know I was right here?" Hana asked, not releasing him from her glance. She winced with a start as he wiped blood off her. Thorin did not answer at first. He laid the bloodstained cloth next to him on the ground and picked up a different one to wipe her hands. Hana mustered up her strength to sit up straighter. "Why are you helping me? Thorin?" He kept looking at her hands and did not meet her glance. "Because…" He paused for a moment, then looked up at her and stopped. "I saw your note. Because you are alone."


	2. Tell Me Of Your Dealings

Hana woke up with a severe headache. She could not move without feeling waves of pain reverberate through her body. She vaguely remembered flashes of what happened after the skirmish with the vagrant ended. Thorin had helped her up and she attempted to walk. She flexed her toes, which were bare, and the soles of her feet throbbed. She screwed up her face as she touched her wounds, particularly her head, which felt as if someone with a small hammer was banging on her skull from the inside. She had suffered a concussion, but was not sure as to the degree. It was her right leg that felt the worst, a slow torture that unfortunately affected the stronger side of her body. She tried to sit up, taking the movement very slow. Sitting upright, trying to move her torso was excruciating. Then she remembered how physical and violent the fight for her life was, and it made sense. When Hana opened her eyes fully, she noticed she was not on the old wooden bench underneath the window. She was in Thorin's tiny room, in his bed. She was lying on some sort of fur, presumably a bear's, and the only thing that had been removed from her body were her boots and cloak. The smithy was silent, and all that Hana could hear was the constant sound of the crows squawking outside, mingled with her own breath. Thorin was nowhere to be seen. Once she sat fully upright, she looked at the deep gashes on her hands and the leg wound. She picked up small copper basin beside the bed and her distorted reflection revealed her face had been carefully cleaned off. Her puffy, swollen upper lip, though discolored and bruised, was free of blood and dirt. Hana put the basin down, and reclined onto her back again, cursing aloud. She had moved too abruptly and the pulsing bruises on her back did not thank her for it. She did not remember much from whatever conversation they shared before she lost consciousness, but Hana did recall him saying "you're alone" to her. She felt indignant and then still inside. It was impertinent and presumptuous for him to say it, but she would not deny it. Hana _was_ completely alone. The only place she had ever dwelled in that resembled home was far behind her and she was not sure she would return. She sat up again this time, slower, and was determined to make herself move. Hana would no longer be indebted to this stranger. She needed to move on. No matter how much she tried to distract herself as she attempted to tidy up the smithy, she could not vaporize him from her thoughts. His words, voice, and touch lingered.

Hana willed herself to get up and get moving. She collected what she had of her scant belongings and looked for something to write a note on. She noticed the last note she left Thorin was still on the table, barely moved. So she wrote below it, hastily: "I haven't forgotten the debts I owe you, or my blades. I need to find some sort of lodging, any sort. Might look for a local apothecary. My humble thanks for your help." – Hana. She took a look around at the lowly smithy, and felt odd. It was not a feeling of attachment, necessarily, but there was a sentiment brewing in her, something resembling nostalgia. She turned around, facing the door, and paused. She heard his voice echoing in her head, then walked out the door, locking it from the inside. _Move on_, she thought.

She spent the whole day, wandering, sometimes with a near limp. Hana tried to walk slower as to disguise her pained steps. She did not need anyone singling her out as a weakling. Hana was subject to the sounds and smells of the village again, listening carefully, observing. The villagers were not particularly speedy about their business, or overly friendly. As she meandered, Hana saw little diversity in the residents. Most were of the race of men, probably having spent most of their lives in this mountainous region, probably having never ventured any further than the village borders. There were no elves. Hana had not laid eyes on an elf since leaving her childhood home, Imladris. No elves would have ever have any business here. They did not meddle in the affairs of men nor did they usually venture too far from their lands. This was a place where rough hewn, survivalist types trod. Hana passed the inn along the main road again, and stopped. It was not her first choice of lodging, but much alternative. She looked both ways across the road, and paused. _I could travel westward a few days; see what lies in the towns there_. Perhaps she would, before the long winter months arrived, but not right away. Her main concern now was finding shelter. She approached the inn, her hood on, senses heightened.

The wafting smells of burning wood and smoke greeted her. The patrons, mostly men, were drinking sloppily from large tin pints, laughing ostentatiously. At one table, to her right, Hana spotted what she was certain were Dwarves. She knew enough about Dwarves to recognize them, and had seen, beneath Thorin's long hair, his slightly pointed ears. This group of Dwarves was incognizant of anyone around them, a few younger ones surrounded the two seated and engaged in an intense arm wrestle. To the left was an elderly woman, standing in the corner by a window, mumbling to herself under her breath and staring blankly ahead of her. Hana pushed past a pair of men bellowing at each other, reeking of ale and sweat, and walked up to the counter. A gaunt old man, with a receded hairline, stringy gray hair and missing a few teeth was leaning against the counter, surveying the patrons. She assumed he was the proprietor. He pretended not to noticed the woman in front of him at first. "Can I help you, miss?" he croaked, giving her a once over look that made Hana's stomach churn. After a few seconds, she leaned her forearm on the counter and he backed off. "If you are the proprietor here, yes, you can. I seek accommodation, please. No questions asked, I'm not here to start trouble. " He said nothing at first, just raising his eyebrows incredulously at her. Then the narrowed his beady eyes at her.

"You here alone, girl?"

_Girl?_ She thought. Did she really look like a child?

Hana stared right back, eyes immovable. "My business… is my own."

The innkeeper retreated backwards a bit further, absentmindedly wiping his hands on his sides. He sized her up, not speaking at all, and then the corner of his mouth played into a rather demeaning smirk. He pulled a ring of keys out of his apron pocket and then sauntered over to the base of the stairs. Then he stood at the base and looked blankly at her. Hana coolly followed him. He stomped up the narrow, sharply winding staircase as she heard him mutter under his breath. They navigated the narrow hallway, and he stopped at the last door. Before he opened it, he turned around to face her.

"This here's the smallest room I've got, but it should suit someone like you just fine. Don't burn through more than two logs of wood a night, unless you provide your own. How long do you, er, plan to stay?"

Hana gave her a head a slight shake and shrugged. "Not more than a few days. What is the rate per night?"

The innkeeper listened to her, taking her words in, then said, "What have you got?"

Hana didn't have money, she rarely used currency of any kind. As her other valuable possessions were somewhere in Thorin's custody, she had another, but last resort option. As loathe as she was to part with it, she reached down her sleeve and pulled out a vial, tucked in her elbow, the size of her middle finger. Inside was a butter yellow powdery substance. She held it up for him to see.

"What's that you've got there?" He grumbled.

"It's called celandine. It's a medicine. It can be used to treat warts and other….skin maladies. Hana gave a him a knowing look as she studied his mottled face glowering back at her. He sighed, then gave a quick jerk of his head in a nod. She pressed the vial into his filthy hand and he held it between his thumb and forefinger, studying it.

"Right, girl. I'll try it, but if this is some sort of witchcraft fiddle of yours, you'll be owing me. And I shan't forget." He unlocked her door and pushed it open, not taking his eyes off of Hana for a moment, as if to intimidate her. Then he handed her the key. "Take this one, but don't lose it. I've only one other spare." Hana nodded at him and took it. Just as she was about to close the door behind her, he held it open long enough for her to see his left eye glaring at her and his nose in the crack. "Don't cause no trouble here, girl. No…no er, odd visitors." He turned and left down the stairs. She opened the door all the way to watch him leave, quizzically peering in the direction of the stairs. _No odd visitors? What did he think she was, a whore_? He already thought she was a witch. Hana closed the door and locked it, sighing exasperatedly. She removed her cloak and sat down in the small wooden chair beside a rather paltry looking fire. She surveyed the room. There was the chair she was sitting in, one other tiny stool, and the bed, which did not look like it could accommodate anyone much taller than her. She kicked off her boots and laid down on it, trying to get comfortable. Her body was still sore, but she did not feel as dizzy as she had early that morning. Drowsiness quickly set in, and as she was falling asleep, Hana thought about the next day. She watched a few scurrying embers dart around the base of the waning fire as she thought. _Find an apothecary. Find an apothecary, try to trade, and go back and reclaim your blades. Thorin is probably thinking you swindled him. Thorin…._Hana kept hearing his name in her head. Well, even if he did think that of her, he would not have been the first. _Why did he help me in the woods?_ _I will collect my blades, pay him and be done with this_, she thought. She did not need his pity. She also wanted to believe he did not think ill of her.

Hana was awake, dressed, and out the door of the inn shortly after the sun showed itself. She took with her a small satchel and a handful of empty vials, along with the few full vials she still had. Hana walked to the edge of the forest, not far from where she had been attacked a few days earlier. She did not venture in as far, but walked, slowly, picking up scents and carefully inspecting the vegetation. She gathered handfuls of the more common plants like wild peppermint, valerian and rue. She scoped out the best patches of the plants, gathered what she needed, and went back into the village, first to store her specimens, then to grind them carefully into fine powders. It took her most of the day, and the sun was much higher in the sky when she returned. Hana asked a woman she had spotted hanging around the inn entrance all day where the local apothecary could be located. The woman was a bit brass, and her careworn face frowned at Hana's approach.

"A what? You dabble in black magic or sommat?

Hana shook her head. "No, nothing like that, somewhere where you can get medicines? Cures for sickness? For (she whispered and leaned in closer, looking upwards as she spoke close to the woman's ear_) female_ matters?"

The woman looked at Hana, perplexed. "Don't look like there's nuffin' wrong with you. Nuffin' at all. You from 'round _here_?"

Hana rolled her eyes impatiently. "No. I'm not. But I need to find an apothecary. Is there one here or not? Next town, perhaps?"

The woman raised her eyebrows jauntily. "Next village over. You can't walk there, it'll take you nearly the 'ole day. 'Bout ten miles."

Hana sighed. That was further than she wanted to go, but she was not unaccustomed to far walks. She thanked the woman, and went inside. It was crowded, for early evening. Her hood was up, but she did not slip past all the patrons unnoticed. She was the only younger woman in the place by herself, and stood out. Even with the healing marks on her face from the forest attack, she was still very beautiful. The cacophony of bellowing voices, raucous laughter, and the scrape of chairs being pushed in and pulled out from tables rang in her ears. As she started up the stairs, she almost walked right into a rather formidable looking Dwarf; his shoulders alone looked four feet wide. His head was covered with cryptic tattoos and he was blocking the stairs completely. He was staring off into the crowd, at the same group of Dwarves arm wrestling from the previous night. They were sitting at the table talking intently among themselves. His stern expression gave Hana slight pause. He pretended not to notice the woman standing right in front of him as he tipped up his huge pint of ale.

"_Excuse_ me, sir." Hana reproached herself for a second for not saying please, but why should she? He was in _her_ way.

He looked down on her, genuinely shocked at first. He said nothing at all for solid minute.

"Can I help you?"

"You're in the _way_, sir. Will you please move?" She stood her ground. The dwarf felt like being difficult.

"Maybe I can….(he raised up the pint, waving it a bit) and maybe I...can't." He smirked at her and gulped more ale down, dribbling it down his beard and front. Hana felt the fury rising in her like wild animal. If she had a blade in her hand right now the dwarf would be wounded, or worse.

"Look, I asked you to move, and I will be damned if I…" the volume in her voice escalated into a yell and then she was cut off. The insolent dwarf's sneer at her was erased when she raised her voice at him. He was not expecting it. Another dwarf moved in, waving the insolent one away from the stairs. He was shorter, older, with a long white beard and a white tuft of hair. He had a much kinder way about him. 'Good heavens, brother, are you deaf? She needs to get up the stairs. Move out of her way. " Hana turned and looked at him, as he beckoned the larger dwarf further away from the stairs. As she started walking, she saw them whisper to each other, and look in her direction. She felt their eyes on her as she ascended, and saw them still on her right before disappearing from their view.

The next day, the third since the forest attack, Hana rose again early. She hitched a wagon ride into the next village, the one the woman at the inn at told her about. The ride took Hana along rocky terrain, and she could feel the winds changing. She did not know if she would be able to beat winter here. If she could gather some more herb specimens and trade enough, Hana might be able to save enough to find herself a longer term lodging in the village she had been staying. Sitting in the back of the wagon, beside baled straw and facing a nonchalant looking goat, Hana pondered her options. The creaking wagon wheels and the empty mountain air was all she heard. Her thoughts drifted to Thorin, and his actions toward her_. It was no big deal to him, helping me. He probably has not spared me a passing thought since, except to wonder when I'm coming back to collect my blades, if that even. Stop it. Stop thinking about him. _

The youth who gave Hana the ride accepted a measure of pipe weed as payment. Hana figured he would accept it after she saw him puffing on some on their trip. She was glad he took it and did not want any of her other precious extracts. He told her where the apothecary was, in a dilapidated hovel located under a splayed yew tree. This village was even smaller than the last, so finding the hovel did not take her long. She still had to find a way back to the inn, and did not want this to take longer than necessary. As Hana approached the door, she saw it was already open, so she entered, hood up, and saw wooden shelves jutting out from the walls, lined with vials and bottles of all sizes. The sun crept through the door and cast blurred beams across the small room. An elderly man and woman were inside. The woman stood up when she saw Hana enter, and the man left. The woman was short, her thin white hair gathered back in a snood, and moved slowly. Hana walked up to the edge of the table where the woman stood and awaited her words.

"What do you need, miss?"

Hana reached in her right sleeve and pulled put a leather forearm cover. She untied the laces and carefully laid out the ten vials, one by one, labeled in her own hand. The woman observed each one intently, scowling in concentration as she studied the samples.

"Is this all you've got?"

"Yes. I wish to trade please, ma'am. I've got refined athelas, celandine, ground mushroom, and ground cannabis." She made sure she made eye contact with the woman on her last word. Hana seemed on edge, she wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, but also wanted to get a decent price for whatever the woman was interested in. As the woman inspected the vials with her gnarled, liver spot riddled hands, Hana eyes searched the shelves of the hovel. Her eyes glazed over at the different sized vials and bottles. She wondered what some of them contained. She was fixated on a cloudy green bottle with a long, thin neck, containing a silvery substance. The woman's voice jolted her back into the present. It was a lower register than Hana anticipated.

"Did you refine these yourself?"

Hana glanced back at the woman, nonplussed. "Yes."

The woman pulled five of the vials toward her and looked each on over, again. Then she looked back up at Hana.

"I want these four. Two of the athelas, two of the cannabis. I can give you twenty silver pennies, or ten silver pennies and two of the vials on that shelf over there." She motioned to the shelf on the wall to Hana's right. Hana walked over and surveyed what there was to choose from, and she swiftly picked up two vials of the scarlet red opium powder. It was a rare find, especially in this part of Middle Earth. She pushed them across the table. The woman accepted Hana's trade, and wrapped the coins and opium in a bit of cloth. Hana wondered how the woman and her husband managed to keep that much coin on hand, but live in such a ramshackle old hut.

"I'm on the lookout for anesthetics and antivenoms, girl, if you happen upon any. I'll trade you or pay a fair price." She put one withered hand on top of the other and gave Hana a curious glance. Hana took the parcel and made sure everything was there, including her own vials, before tucking it all into her cloak. Hana turned around to face her. "Thank you. I will bear that in mind, ma'am." She left, grateful the transaction was fairly short, and saw the same youth, with his cart parked in the same spot from earlier. He told her was heading back to the village before nightfall, and he would let her tag along for "another couple puffs of that strong leaf." Hana agreed, and found herself fighting off sleep, even as the bumpy ride in the back of the wagon jolted her off and on.

Hana wearily walked up the inn stairs to her room. Luckily no one blocked her entry up the steps or gave her any trouble. She did not bother to undress or even kick off her boots. A deep sleep swiftly swept over her. She woke later than she meant to the next morning, and when the sound of inn patrons in the hallway woke her, she slowly prepared herself for the day. Her clothes, which she had worn two days in a row, smelled rank, and though she did not want to, she put on a moss colored, woven muslin dress. It was not as warm as her trousers and tunic, but it would have to do. She washed up, tidied her dark hair into a long plait, and eased her sore feet into her boots. Hana did not have much in the way of food left, but did manage to get a heel of bread from the innkeeper's silent wife before setting out. This trip was long overdue. She strode purposefully in the direction of the smithy. The walk seemed shorter this time, and Hana wished she could shake the odd, churning feeling in her stomach as she inched closer and closer to the smithy. The same indignant crows whinged at her as she knocked on the door. She expected a long wait as in the past, but it was almost instantaneous after her abrupt knock that the door swung open. Thorin's eyes lingered on Hana. He barely let slip a hint of a smile and said, "Good day to you, Hana. I was wondering where you had disappeared to."

Hana did not want to give off an air of weakness, even though at this moment she was feeling so. A different sort of weakness. "I have not disappeared anywhere, I…..I've just been busy elsewhere."

He motioned to her lip and jawline. "The bruises are looking better. So is your lip." He deep voice had gone strangely quiet.

Hana still felt the flutter in her gut. Perhaps it was the old bread she had eaten. Maybe it was something else causing the discomfort. She looked back at Thorin, in both eyes.

"Thank you. They feel better." She managed a smile back. Hana took a step back. Thorin snapped out of the momentary fog he lapsed into and beckoned her inside.

"Your blades are done. Right here, if you want to come in." He walked back into the forge. She could hear the rustle and heavy thud of metal and paper. Hana also heard the baleful rumble of thunder overhead. She craned her neck to see out the window, and the sky had grown ominously dark. Thorin emerged after a few minutes, holding the blades, wrapped in cloth, and laid them out on the long table in front of her. Hana picked them up, one by one, and marveled at the precise sharpness. They had been buffed and polished. He had spent considerable time on them. Thorin brought Hana back in the moment by picking one of them up and looking it over, suspiciously. The interlacing carvings on the handle and streamlined blade stood out to him. Elvish make. He held it in both hands and then spoke. His tone changed from kind to stern rapidly.

"Can I ask where you acquired this one? It looks as if it's…." Hana interrupted him before she could stop herself.

"Elf-made. It is. It was given to me…." She sighed dramatically. "When I was a young girl." She gave a nonchalant flip of her hand on "girl".

Suddenly the thunder rocked Hana alert. "Here," she said, retrieving five of her silver pennies and a vial of opium. "I hope this covers your time and trouble. Not just for the knives, but for your help when I was…"

"It's no trouble. None at all." It was Thorin's turn to interrupt. His voice made Hana's scalp crinkle. He did not move. He put the Elven knife down.

"No, I insist. I am not a swindler; I am not some wretch who can't take care of herself. Please. " She forcefully put it on the table. She stared him down, this time, with such determination she felt her temper start to rise. Thorin did not back down, but did pick up the vial and held it close, a few inches from his eyes, to inspect it.

"What is this?"

'It's opium powder. I gathered it, I ground it. It is used to treat and numb severe pain. So, the next time you hurt yourself, that should help."

Thorin smiled. A full smile this time, even revealing his teeth. "Well, that happens to me fairly often, in this line of work. And I usually just bear it as best I can. Thank you. This I will keep. Not the coins. Not a chance."

Hana raised her eyebrows and folded her arms, as if to say, take it all. _Now. _The dogged stare down between the woman and the blacksmith held fast.

_Why is he being so stubborn, _Hana thought_. Damn Dwarf. He pities me._ Thorin shook his head at her. _No. _The thunder broke their fixation on each other. It was loud enough to shake the walls. Down came relentless torrents of rain.

"Well, I'm leaving. And I'm not taking this with me." She spoke plainly. Hana turned on her heels to leave, peering out the window. The rainfall was still heavy.

"No point in leaving just now," Thorin said. He looked upwards toward the roof and the hammering rain, then back at her. He paused for a moment and put another log in the fire. "Tell me of your dealings with Elves."


	3. I'm Not Going Anywhere

Hana was reluctant to stay, but was not keen on venturing out into the storm, either. So she found a spot on the floor, sat, and pulled out a long pipe. She was ready to light up when she realized Thorin was watching her curiously from in front of the fire. She looked up at him without moving and asked. "Care for a bit? It's a pretty good blend, if I say so myself."

He nodded and she reached into her pack, on the floor next to her, and pulled out a small pouch with finely grained pipe weed in it. She stood up to hand it to him, their eyes meeting with the fire crackling beside. Hana felt an odd tingling she knew was not from the warm of the flames. As she placed it in his hand, a little slower than she had intended, he managed a smile. A few moments passed, and she pulled her hand away first. "Thank you," Thorin managed, his usually projecting voice barely audible. He assumed a spot, also on the floor, across from Hana, and both lit up and savored the first whiffs of the strong weed. She looked down her pipe at the emerging smoke, pleased.

"So how would someone like you become acquainted with Elves?" Thorin looked up at the ceiling, suspected a leak, then his eyes came to rest on Hana at the end of his question.

"Someone like me?" Hana raised her eyebrows, mildly affronted.

"Well, you're clearly not an Elf. Just making an observation." He inhaled a long drag of weed.

Hana shifted on the floor from sitting cross-legged in her long dress to inching closer to the fireplace, legs stretched out in front of her. She took her boots off, revealing her bare feet, which were sore and tired of being constricted. Quickly after taking them off, she thought better of it. _He might see this as a bit risky, or repulsive. I can't get up and leave as fast. Oh well. He's already labeled me as a lowly mortal._ The thin dress was not the most weather appropriate choice of clothing, but she did not have much else. It made her skin itch. Thorin looked down his own pipe at her bare feet, then back into her eyes.

"No, I'm not. I'm mortal, just an ordinary mortal. They found me, by chance as a child, in Dorwinion. Not far from the where the woodland Elves dwell in the Greenwood. I was a child of simple growers. An Elf visiting from Rivendell and a few of his kin found me crouched rather pitifully beneath some large rocks after an Orc raid on my village. Every living thing in sight was slaughtered. Why they didn't come back to sniff out a weak child, I don't know. Stupid Orcs, maybe. Maybe they were scared off. Whatever the reason, I was lucky. I was barely four years old. The Elf who found me took me in and I was raised with them, until I left Rivendell as an adult. He saved my life."

Thorin studied her face intently. He was barely blinking, which Hana interpreted as his eyes glazed over from profound boredom. "My apologies if I bored you with all that," she said curtly, as she laid down her pipe and shifted to a cross-legged position on the floor again. "I guess that was more than you cared to ever know."

Thorin said nothing at all for a few moments. "Why would an Elf take in a mortal, orphaned child? Forgive me for the impertinence, Hana, but I have never known Elves to be merciful in the slightest. I have seen Elves look suffering and ruin in the face and turn deaf ears to pleas for help."

Hana narrowed her eyes disdainfully. "I don't _know_. Maybe this one who rescued me was the one Elf in Middle Earth with a heart." She raised her open hand and then let it fall next to her as she wearily defended herself.

Thorin looked down, then blankly into the fire. "Do you remember any of it? The attack that killed your family?" His voice went quiet again.

Hana looked down on the floor, and sighed. "I saw nothing until I was pulled out by my rescuer, my now father. I was hiding." Her speech slowed, and she paused and swallowed. "I have never forgotten some of the sounds. The sounds of throats being slit, screaming voices from people and animals being burned alive, the clank of swords and armor during the fray. The sound of my pregnant mother screaming my father's name and then her voice abruptly silenced. The smells of scorched flesh and decay. Two nights passed after the attack, before I was found. I was alone with the silence. Those things, I have not forgotten and try as I may, probably never will."

Thorin was still contemplating at the fire. "You still remember that, from four years old. Of course, how could one ever forget that…" he trailed off.

Hana tucked her knees under her chin, hugging her calves. She looked back at him, not breaking her gaze this time. He turned and faced her. _I will give you a taste of what this feels like_, she thought. "Now you," she mumbled.

"Now me?" Thorin shrugged.

Hana sat upright, and moved closer, to unnerve him. She was a little more than an arm's length away. He did not move, a bit taken aback by her boldness. "I told you about me. Tell me yours."

The hint of a smile crept back on Thorin's face again. "What if I told you you'd be waiting a long time?" He was immoveable.

Hana backed off, paused and stood up. She had forgotten herself and had dug too deep at him, apparently. She put her boots back on and winced slightly as she put her weight back on her feet. "I'm sorry. I won't pry. I need to get going anyway." She reached for her belongings and made for the door. It was still dripping outside, though not as heavily as before.

'Where are you going?" He asked, rather deadpan. He did not follow her, but looked mildly surprised at her sudden exit.

"Back to my room. The hour is late, and I must take my leave. Good night, Thorin." Hana glanced back at him for a second, then departed into the night.

Hana spent much time over the next few weeks gathering and refining as much as she could. She took two trips to Briarly a week to trade and sometimes sell. Almost three months had passed since she stopped at Eldfell, and circumstances had prevented her from moving on as she had intended. The days were getting shorter, and Hana made the best use she could out of the precious daylight. She limited her meals to twice a day, saving as much coin as she could. Her reduced meals and constant walking made her drop weight, something she had not exactly wanted. Hana was eager to leave the inn and find somewhere quieter, somewhere of her own, to work and have peace. She had had her fill of the rough sorts she encountered there. While on her daily walks, she spotted a very small cabin about a three mile distance from the edge of the woods surrounding Eldfell. She approached it one afternoon, curious to see if anyone inhabited the place. It was built of stone, with a wooden roof, and lay tucked between some tall pines. The outside did not look like it had been disturbed in ages. There was a narrow well in front, and Hana labored to haul up a pail, but there was water. Hana cautiously peeked in one of wooden shutters, as there were no actual windows. Inside, she saw a dusty floor, no furniture, and a fireplace about the size of tree stump. It had been undisturbed for a long time. There were no footprints on the floor, no signs of anyone dwelling in the place. Hana asked around town to see if anyone owned it, or if the original inhabitants were coming back. "No one has lived there for years," a stocky middle-aged man told her as they passed in the street. "Don't reckon I've ever seen anyone near it. It's so small, you see," He casually gesticulated at no one in particular. Hana got similar answers from other townspeople, and decided to move there herself. She had some misgivings about just living there in case an owner ever appeared, but if nothing else, it could be another temporary residence. She spent three days cleaning it as well as she could, and moved in with her scarce belongings. It was cold and small, just one little room, but it was better than staying at the inn. The smells of earth, timber, and must permeated the place. The only sounds she heard were outside; the strengthening wind, owls, crows, and the distant howls of wolves at night. The first two nights she spent in her cabin were an adjustment. Hana appreciated the quiet and solace, as opposed to the noise and smoke of the inn, but her nerves were ever present. She kept her longest blade next to her when she slept, a wooden beam across the door for added security, and always remained on alert. Two weeks to the day after Hana moved into the cabin, the snow began to fall. It was only light, scurrying flakes, but she knew it was just a short time until the heavier fall came. Hana provisioned as much as she could, kept her boots dry, and spent her afternoons carrying twigs and logs for fires. She had managed to trade for a couple of large wool blankets, two heavier woolen dresses, trousers, two tunics, and thick stockings. She kept her few valuables, coin, extracts and vials buried under a floorboard wrapped in a cloth and bound. Hana always had misgivings about winter, but now, since she was so far from her adopted home and alone, she was apprehensive. Winter in the mountains would be a challenge she had not faced before. If she survived it, luck would have to be on her side.

Hana was out in the woods one morning, about four miles from her cabin, picking up fallen branches. The woods grew quieter as the air grew colder and crisp. She had seen nothing for almost two hours but a shy deer peering at her from behind a thicket. The snowflakes began to fall, slowly and lightly. The shadows grew longer, so Hana bound the branches into a roll and strapped them on her back, and walked in the direction of her cabin. The burden was not as heavy as it was uncomfortable and oddly shaped. She had been walking about fifteen minutes. A rustle of leaves and the cracking brush under his feet signaled his presence before she saw him.

"Haven't seen you in a while." The voice shook Hana like a flash of lightning. She gasped aloud and she pulled a knife from her belt, ready to use it. Her scalp crinkled, her heart was pounding so loud she heard it outside of her body. Then she let out a stressed sigh when she saw him, a few yards away, emerging from behind a tree with an axe in his hand.

Hana was still rattled. She lowered the knife, let out a couple of breaths, cursing and tucked it away. Thorin strode a few paces closer. "Is it safe?" The rare smile crept across his face. He looked a bit different since the last time she saw him, dressed warmer, wearing a heavy, long sleeved tunic, wool trousers and a fur lined cloak. He saw that Hana had been startled and wore the regret plainly. "Forgive me….forgive me." He shook his head with remorse as he saw how unsettled she was. Hana's heart was still pounding, so hard it almost hurt. He stood facing her, close enough that he reached out gently pulled a stray lock of hair away from her face, a bit tousled from her scare. When she was ready to speak, Hana looked him squarely in the eye. For a moment she wanted to hit him. "I'm sorry, really," he said softly. Then he sighed. "Are you going to be cross now?"

Hana managed to breathe easily again and sat down on a large mossy rock. Thorin sat beside her, and gave her space for a few minutes. He looked out into the distance, silently. She pulled out a small bottle with water in it, and drank. She offered it to him. "It's not poison," she quipped, as he took it from her doubtingly. Hana knew her voice sounded strained and it annoyed her. "If it were I would not be drinking it. And no. I won't be _that_ cross." She let out a long, shaky breath. "Not for long, anyway. Next time, announce yourself." Much as she fought it, her face betrayed her and they shared a mutual smile, Thorin even chuckled.

"What are you doing out here? Don't you ever worry about going into the woods alone?" He studied her questioningly as she looked down at her bottle, resealing the cork with a gloved hand and placing it carefully in her small bag. Hana smiled as she looked back up at him. He was close enough to her that their arms were touching. Hana wait to see who would recoil first. Neither did.

"Of course I worry. I never stop worrying. To gallivant into the woods carelessly would be folly. But I can't let past experiences cripple me like that. I've got to keep going. I'm all I've got." She shrugged. "I am out here stocking up," she kicked at the bundle of branches to show him. It was almost as long as she was tall. Thorin observed the haul, then looked over his shoulder at her.

"You've got your work cut out for you, then."

"It doesn't look like much, but I've got it under control," Hana answered defensively. She did not ask for his input or impertinence. Then he spoke again, much to Hana's puzzlement. Thorin was more talkative now than she had witnessed in their previous encounters.

"You finishing up for the day?"

Hana contemplated the question for a few seconds and then replied. "Eh, I might as well. Maybe I'll come out again tomorrow if the snow holds off." She gave the sky a brief glance, then hopped off the rock, slipping a bit because of its slick surface. Once on her feet, she strapped on her branch bundle. Hana must have looked wild and unkempt as her dark hair blew free in the chilly wind. She faced a still seated Thorin barely narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. Hana was not amused but said nothing. She simply raised her eyebrows and tilted her head in question. _What now? Yes, I know I'm covered in dirt. So are you. _ He stood up and effortlessly yanked his axe out of the ground by the base of the rock.

"Would you permit me to walk with you?" he asked. Hana glanced back at him, wondering what this was about. "Yes," she answered dubiously. He stood up, waiting for her to lead, and they headed in the direction of Eldfell.

The walk back to town seemed shorter to Hana than the walk into the woods from earlier. She felt compelled to talk during the awkward pauses when all either of them could hear was the crack of twigs underneath their feet and the wind picking up momentum. Thorin also walked a pace behind her, which she found unsettling. The heavy thuds of his steps behind her were bothersome. She stopped for him to catch up. He strode at the same leisurely pace he had kept and squinted his eyes at Hana.

"Is something wrong?" He stopped right in front of Hana. Once again, she looked him in the face, unnerved.

"I waited for you to catch up. I don't like you walking behind me. Why do you?" When she finished the sentence, Thorin frowned, puzzled.

'Because you know where you're going. So I'm following you. Is that alright?" There was a slight annoyance in his tone.

For a moment she said nothing as they stared each other down. Then Hana shook her head with a jerk and sighed. _Maybe that was unreasonable of me_, she thought. He did not see why having someone walk behind them, purposefully, might be irritating. He smirked at her slightly, again, which made Hana want to deck him in the face. "Alright, fine. As you wish." He caught up and they approached a clearing at the edge of the woods, walking toward the outskirts of the village of Eldfell. It was late afternoon, the shadows long already because of the changing season. The mottled grey skies overhead signaled something, possibly more flurries. Hana and Thorin walked side by side, down the main road. Most of the villagers that were out went about their business, taking no notice of the pair. A blank faced young boy, maybe twelve, passed them, leading a indifferent looking horse behind him with a rope. The sound of wind and rustling leaves being blown about was ever present.

"How long have you been on your own?" Thorin asked. Their crackling footsteps on the gravelly road provided some background noise. "Did something happen to make you want to leave?" Thorin looked to his ride side at her, and Hana walked a few steps, her eyes fixed ahead. After a short contemplation, she answered.

"I've been by myself for almost three years. I left because…(she paused again) because I know I will have to, eventually. Most everyone I know there is Elven. My own father is. He will outlive me. The few friends I had growing up will also. They will reach the age of two thousand years and look like me, and I am barely thirty human years. I'll live to be a hundred...if I am fortunate." She let out a meditative sigh, looking down at the ground and her dirty boots before kicking a small rock ahead. Preoccupied, she kicked it again and watched it roll ahead of them.

Then Hana spoke again. "It is an isolating feeling. One I have had since I was brought there as a child." Hana silently chastised herself for revealing so much in her answer. There was quiet before Thorin answered her. He looked back at her, with mild interest.

"You have reached thirty human years?" He raised his eyebrows with curiosity. Hana did not like talking about her age, let alone with a Dwarf who would live a full century or more longer. "Almost. I will be thirty in the spring." She was glum now. A few minutes passed and then she spoke. Hana was fixated on something ahead of them, inattentive for a second. She tried to ignore a man off in the distance ahead, bellowing inanely.

"How old are you, Thorin?" She stopped walking. He walked three steps ahead, slowed down, then also stopped and turned around to face her. He sighed.

"I see. You revealed your age, now it's my turn?" The corners of his lips turned up into a genuine smile. Hana was unflinching. She crossed her arms, determined.

"Yes. "

He looked off into nothing off to his right, then at Hana. He decided to humor her. "I have lived one hundred ninety two years. Though it feels like much longer than that."

She returned the smile, slowly. "How can it possibly feel longer? Isn't almost two hundred years long enough?"

Thorin looked down at the axe, which he had lowered to the ground and leaned a hand on the handle. He shrugged and was about to speak when the heckler, who appeared to be somewhat inebriated, interrupted them. He was across the road from them and about a hundred feet away. His epithets were clearly audible, and Hana bristled. Thorin picked up the axe and backtracked towards her, eyeing the heckler with disdain. The filth spewing out of the man's mouth insulted them both. He tightened his grip and visibly held it loose, as if at the ready.

"Don't pay him any mind. Clearly the drink has gotten him." The way the man looked at Hana made her feel sick. He licked his yellow teeth at her.

"I'm not. It's not the first time I've heard insults like that. He's just a dirty minded fool. Keep walking. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking I care." Thorin glowered at the lech threateningly but kept walking alongside Hana, who kept her head upright and her eyes fixed ahead of them. Luckily, the man did not follow them, and once they left enough distance behind them both looked over their shoulders, she over her right, Thorin over his left.

"Dirty bastard," Hana muttered, giving her head a pensive shake. Thorin sneered as he looked back, as if he tasted something sour. Then they faced each other, and she frowned, puzzled. "Didn't you miss your turn back there at Pigot?"

Thorin lifted the axe back across his shoulder, nodding. Then their eyes met. "I did." The wind was strengthening still, drumming against their ears, and the temperature was dropping.

Hana adjusted her bundle on the other side of her back, which was getting sore. "Well I'm going home now. It's through there," she motioned to a clearing in the woods behind them with her hand. "You can come see it, if you want, though there's not much to it. I can make some tea?" As soon as Hana finished the sentence she cringed inwardly. It sounded even more odd coming out of her mouth than she thought it would. Hana had never been a brilliant conversationalist. She felt like groaning aloud, but managed to hold back.

Thorin was watching her, eyebrows slightly raised again, and a warm smile slowly broadened across his lips. "Yes, I'd like to," he answered jauntily. Hana returned the smile and they set out in the direction of woods as the daylight waned.

Trudging through the carpet of fallen leaves and brush, Hana was slowing down. Her shoulders were sore, and she remembered she had been out, moving almost the entire day. Thorin walked quietly beside her, looking casually out at the wilderness ahead. He took a deep breath. "Being an outsider is never easy, is it?", he said, looking over at her.

Hana glanced back. She took in his words, looking at him, and shook her head wearily. There was something soft in his glance, maybe compassion. Then she turned her eyes back to the path in front of them. "No….no it's not. I supposed I am used to it now, though. " They had been walking fifteen minutes and Hana was feeling fatigue catch up with her. Thorin noticed, slowing his pace down as well. He spotted her cabin as she was about to announce it. With a single nod he said gruffly, "That it?"

"Yes, it is," Hana answered as their gait slowed and long shadows cast from the trees crossed into their path. They slowly walked up to the old well and Thorin stopped. He surveyed the little hut, woods, and well around him, and turned around as he took it in. 'Rather off the beaten path" has mentioned, briefly focused on the tall trees surrounding them.

Hana trudged up to the door and unlocked it. "I prefer it that way," she replied. "There's a distance between me (she paused and heaved a sigh) and those odd _village_ sorts." She turned around and looked at him, stone faced, then broke into a smirk. She was glad he was not too thin skinned, as Thorin raised his right brow and took the jab with a chuckle. He walked behind her and ducked passing through the doorway. He set his axe and bundle down on the floor to the right of the door, and Hana set her load down in a corner about ten feet away with a faint grimace. Her body was sore. She was removing her boots and cloak, and noticed he seemed perplexed by the door, studying it intently. He touched the bolt, then looked up at the top of the doorframe. He had not been inside more than two minutes.

"What is it? Is something the matter?" Hana queried as she hastily plaited her hair. She frowned, perplexed.

Thorin did not answer for a moment. He shook his head as if to brush off the thought, then turned around. "The door…the bolt on it is not secure. All it would take is someone to kick it open." Their eyes met and Hana's brow grew more furrowed. "I lay that across it when I'm here". She motioned with her hand to the beam on the floor nearby. "When I'm not, well….I jam it with a rock." She folded her arms stubbornly across her chest.

Thorin walked a few steps closer, his own arms folded. "The beam is better than nothing, but not by much. You ought to see to that."

Hana nodded casually, if not a bit dismissively. "Fine. I'm making some tea. Do you want any honey in yours? Please, sit. You can have the chair."

Thorin looked at the lone chair, then at her, "I'll sit on the floor, actually. No honey." He sat down beside the fireplace as Hana lit it. The flames slowly matured and she waited for the kettle to heat. There had been water left in it from the previous night. She found herself a spot facing Thorin and sat cross-legged, offering him some bread. He took it, nodding with gratitude. Hana looked over his shoulder and across the small room to see that night had fallen. Thorin stared into the fire, and Hana did as well. The few moments of quiet passed between them, heavy with thought. Hana broke the silence after preparing their loose tea in two ceramic cups. She handed Thorin his first. "Take care not to burn yourself," she said. He took it carefully from her fingers.

"Well, it would not be the first time." He took a sip. It was strong and aromatic. "Blacksmiths get burns almost daily." He seemed a bit lost in thought.

Hana sipped hers and her brow furrowed again. "Have you always been a blacksmith?"

Thorin was glanced at her over the top of his cup. He sighed and looked over at the fire thoughtfully. "No…not always. Only since I left home."

Hana set her cup carefully in her palm and waited for him to continue. "Where is _home_?'

He looked away from the fire and back at Hana, sternly. She did not know what about her last question could have been affronting but said nothing. _What should she reproach herself for?_

He hesitate a moment before answering. "Home lies in the the Wilderland, the former stronghold of my people. Its capital was Erebor. It was once prosperous, wealthy, peaceful and renowned over Middle Earth. For most of my youth we lived in peace and held the respect and awe of all other peoples." Thorin tilted his head to the right and then added softly, "Even that of Elves." His brows raised in emphasis.

Hana arched her brows barely an inch but let him continue. Thorin glanced downward at the floor. "I….I was not much of a craftsman. More of an assistant to my grandfather. "

Hana tried not to show how keenly interested she was. Thorin clearly was not the sort of person who divulged personal information readily, and this was perhaps an indicator that maybe he was beginning to trust her.

"Did you have any other family? She set her cup down beside her on the floor. "Did you have a wife?"

A loaded minute passed before he answered. The fire cast a dramatic shadow on the right side of his face. Hana rethought her last question briefly, it was bold of her to ask. Thorin faced her again, his penetrating stare was one Hana had not seen before. His voice grew lower and softer. "I never knew my mother, she left when I was young. My father did also. I had one sister, who passed away too young. I helped rear her sons."

Thorin sighed wearily. He seemed agitated by the question, looked up at the ceiling for a few seconds, and then back at Hana.

"My grandfather reared me…and…I had no wife. I've never had one."

Hana was intrigued. Not because of how he looked and the fact that he was seated so close to her, but because he confided in her. She sensed there was more to the story, from his tone, but did not interrupt except to wordlessly extend him a pipe and some weed. Thorin accepted, nodding again. Hana studied the lines under his eyes, earned from almost two centuries of life, what she presumed were often tough years. The sharp line of his long nose gave him a perpetually stern but noble profile. For all his dogged demeanor and manner, there was also a calmness Hana saw more of since the first time she met Thorin.

She let him light his pipe first, then lit her own and contentedly inhaled a long puff of glorious smoke. She watched as he did the same, hoping it offered him solace.

"Why did you leave?" Tendrils of unfurling smoke blew lazily between them.

Thorin had been watching the modest fire again. "It was not voluntary. We were driven out. Dragon attack. This would have been long before your time." He flexed his fingers holding the pipe and sighed with fatigue. "Whatever the beast didn't burn, it took. So everyone living in the area, Dwarves and non-Dwarves alike, fled."

Hana inhaled and met Thorin's eyes. "What was it after?"

"Gold, of course. The king had become obsessed with wealth, and our defenses at the time were weak too defeat it. So it seized the chance to attack."

Hana put her pipe down and studied Thorin's broody face intensely. She was frowning with concern at the story she had just heard. Thorin glanced back at her, anticipating a reply. She sighed.

"It sounds like the king was largely to blame for leaving his subjects defenseless. My father has said wealth attracts greed." She muttered halfheartedly.

Thorin snapped out of his troubled fog, turning abruptly to look Hana straight in the eye. It was as if someone had shattered glass right next to his ear. She had struck a nerve. He snorted indignantly. "Spoken like an Elf. What does he know?" His voice had raised quickly, and Hana tensed up. He was not shouting, but seemed on the verge.

Hana kept remarkably calm. She shook her head. "Those are his views, Thorin, not mine."

Their eyes remained fixed on each other. Thorin's half sneer softened a bit, and he looked down at his hand contemplatively. He took a few breaths and spoke. "Forgive me. I do not take back what I said, but I do regret the tone, it was unnecessary. "

Once finished speaking, he looked up from the floor at her. "The hour is late."

"Yes. " Hana did not move except to shift her weight a little. Thorin stood up, grimacing as he stretched his back. She stood up to see him off. He gathered his belongings and slowly made for the door.

"Thank you, Hana….for today, and for listening." He loomed over her. Hana felt less daunted by it than she had when they first met. "Again, please forgive my tone just now."

"You're welcome. It's forgotten." She shook it off. "Take care walking back in the dark." She smiled slowly, which he returned.

"I will. Can I see you again…soon?" Thorin trailed off awkwardly. Hana was relieved she was not the only one who was clumsy when it came to conversation.

Hana smiled, revealing her teeth. "Yes. In the afternoons, preferably."

"Same. Goodnight, Hana," Thorin said. He opened the door, contemplated the bolt a second, and tapped it with his knuckles.

"Goodnight, Thorin." He nodded in acknowledgment, and then turned and disappeared into the night.

Hana walked to the well one morning, feeling frost crunch beneath her boots. The air was crisp, bitingly cold, and quiet. She had been to Briarly two days prior, and was unsure about how many trips she could make there when the heavy snows arrived. It would not be long until the deluge, for which she had been preparing as best she could. Hana carefully rationed out her wood use for the day, burning her fires only at night. She hunted small game, drying out the meat of rabbits, wild turkeys and quail to add to her food stores. If she was especially lucky, she could take an animal every other day. She stuck to using her blades most of the time, but occasionally made use of her bow. There were few ventures into the deeps woods now, unless it was for game. Hana did not want to risk being caught out in the forest, carrying heavy loads and be at the mercy of the weather. Hana heaved up the pail, tugging on the rope with gloved hands. The rope and pail felt unsound. After a few minutes, the pail was within her view. She reached for it, and saw a thin layer of ice floating across the top of the water. Inside was about two days' worth. She carried it inside, and set it on the ground next to the hearth. Hana removed her gloves and allowed herself one cupful. She held her right hand out in front of her face, fanned, and noticed how dry and cracked it had become. The other was in the same condition. Her knuckles were raw, with little cuts forming where the skin was opened. She set to work stitching a fur lining onto one of her cloaks. It was the fur of a couple of rabbits she had taken recently. There was enough to line the hood, but not the whole cloak. As her dried fingers pierced and pulled, Hana's thoughts turned to her father. The pressure of the needle on her fingertips hurt. She thought about him and her adoptive family often, wondering what they were up to, and if any of them ever spared her a passing thought. Had he given up completely on combat, and chosen to pour over texts and runes? He had alluded to it in one of their last conversations. An hour or so had passed since Hana began stitching, and she looked out towards the window. Seated cross-legged in her one chair, she wrapped her hands in the warmth of the cloak. Would she be able to continue through life being alone? Hana pondered the possibility often. She could settle in a village like Eldfell, inhabited mostly by mortal Men. She had never made friends with ease, or felt completely comfortable around new people. Would she diminish, eventually die, and anyone even care? Then again, she was almost thirty and there was no certainty she would live to see old age. Weather, illness, or combat could get take her life any time.

Hana needed to get out of the hut and get fresh air. _I've got to move_, Hana said to herself. _I have been sedentary too long today_. Her feet tingled with pins and needles. She put the cloak down, washed her hands and pulled on boots over her wool trousers. She plaited her hair, coiled and fixed it into a low knot at the base of her neck. Hana splashed a bit of water on her face to clean up. The cold air would add some color to her cheeks. She decided to go into Eldfell. Maybe in search of another pail, and to call on Thorin. She donned her other cloak, her gloves and a scarf, and departed.

The journey into town took longer as the weather grew colder. Everything was coated with thick frost. Luckily, there had been light snowfall recently, which made foot travel easier. Eldfell was not a ghost town this day, but was not bustling, either. Chimneys emitted slow, thin clouds of smoke. An elderly woman, heavily bundled, emerged from the inn and beat a small rug against the side of the building. As Hana turned to walk onto Pigot Lane, it seemed even more quiet and foreboding than previous walks there. Her toes were numb, the relentlessly harsh winter air wrapping itself around them. Her fingers felt the itchy sting of mild frostbite. The same crows squawked their indignant warnings at her as she approached the smithy. Hana noticed there was no smoke coming from the chimney, and wondered if Thorin had taken to rationing out his firewood as well. Hana knocked on the door with a gloved, sore hand. She absentmindedly studied the knicks on the weathered wood, and found it a bit perturbing he did not answer right away. She brushed it off. _It is cold, everyone is moving slower. Lighten up. _Hana knocked again after five minutes passed, more forcefully the second time in case he did not hear the first. She heard the weighted footsteps approaching the door, but they decelerated and then stopped.

"Who's there?" Thorin's hoarse voice called out.

Hana frowned and cocked her head closer to the door. "It's me, Hana," she answered. "Are you busy at the moment?"

No footsteps were heard. No movement at all. A lengthy pause followed. Then she heard, "Just push on the door. It's unbolted."

Hana was unsure about the situation. For Thorin not come to the door and answer it himself was uncharacteristic. He was wary of anyone who came to his door and guarded about who he invited in. Hana remembered from when she first met him. She pushed open the door and walked in hesitantly.

"Why on earth haven't you got your fire going? It's freezing out there," she said looking down as she wiped her boots and flipped back her hood with a wave of her right hand. Then she saw why. Thorin was hunched over, leaning his weight forward, hand steadying himself on a chair. He was dirtier looking than usual, and only had filthy socks on his large feet. His breathing appeared to be labored, as if he had taken a blow to the chest. He glanced up at Hana slowly.

"I can't get to the fire."

Hana walked closer to him, puzzled. "Why ever not…" she saw his left forearm wrapped in a crude, dirty bandage. She stepped closer to inspect it and he pulled away.

"DON'T TOUCH IT!" Thorin shouted. Hana backed away, startled. Then Thorin let go of the chair, and slunk back against a wall, his left leg outstretched and right bent. He leaned his head back against the wall. "For-forgive me. Please. I did not mean to shout at you. I just can't have anyone touch it…" he stammered as he sweat profusely. His eyes were closed. Hana knelt down in front of him and saw not only was his forearm bandaged, so was his left leg above the knee.

"I was _not_ going to touch it, I just want to look at it," she said indignantly. "These could be infected. I just want to see if I can clean them off. I'm trying to help you."

He opened his eyes at Hana, nodding. She carefully unwrapped the grimy bandage on his forearm. Thorin winced and groaned. A large, open wound that resembled a burn lay underneath. It was encrusted with blood, pus and antibodies, clearly indicating an infection. A closer inspection of the arm wound and the bandage on his leg indicated to Hana the wounds were at least two days old. She glanced down at his leg, and then at Thorin, whose eyes were open, but squinting in agony.

"May I? I won't touch it." She raised her hand in emphasis. He nodded at her.

Thorin's pants leg had a large hole where the wound occurred. Hana gingerly peeled off the makeshift bandage off his left thigh; it had been wrapped three times around. This wound was worse, deeper, and bloodier. The burn had taken off a few layers of skin, and the pus had formed a foul smelling layer the consistency of jelly over the top. Hana left the bandages on the ground and glimpsed his face, which was sickly pale.

"How did this happen? Did you burn yourself working or something?"

Thorin nodded again. "In the forge. Dropped a heated blade. " He sounded as if talking was straining him.

Hana put a bare hand to his forehead. It was much too hot for someone in a tiny smithy with no fire burning. The skin around his arm and leg wounds also felt unusually hot. She put the back of her hands to his cheeks. He flinched at the sensation of her icy cold skin against his.

"You need to get into your bed. Can you try to walk if assist you?" His eyes told her with every slow blink: _No_. His body tensed up like a stubborn child unwilling to comply with his parent.

"I do not need to be in bed, I'm fine. "

"This is not fine, you can't even lift wood to drop in the hearth." She pursed her lips flatly.

He looked back at her, resolve solid. He did not move a muscle.

_I will win this staredown_, Hana thought. "You can't even get up to answer your door. Now move. We'll go slow."

She struggled as she squatted down to help Thorin to his wobbly feet. _Thank heavens this is a short walk_. Thorin's muscular, solid as a tree trunk frame was heavier than she anticipated. He was leaning most of his weight on her. He slung his right arm on her shoulders; head hung, and limped to his tiny room. It was like carrying a yolk on her shoulders with boulders attached on each end. Hana leaned down to clumsily throw back the covers with her free hand, grimacing, and then lowered him into a sitting position on it. He let out several pained breaths, head still down. He coughed heavily. Hana helped him straighten his body out, and laid him down. She drew the covers up under his arms, so she could clean and bandage the wounded left. She left his left leg uncovered until it was cleaned. She went outside and got a bowlful of the dusting of snow. Moving quickly, Hana began a fire, boiling the water to clean Thorin's wounds with. The fire took longer to start than she had time for. Hana crouched down, putting six decent sized logs in the hearth and the flames gradually rose up from the wood. The small pot of water was heating and she walked back to check on Thorin, who was not making a sound. His eyes were closed, breathing strained. Upon close inspection, beads of sweat continued to form on his clammy skin. Hana knew a fever when she saw one.

"Have you eaten anything in the last day?

He opened his eyes to look at her.

"No. I don't have the stomach for it." A nasty cough racked his chest.

Hana nodded slowly. "I understand. But you need to drink at least, to stay hydrated. I'm making you some tea. I want you to drink it. Alright?"

Thorin did not answer, but closed his eyes and nodded back. Hana went back to check on the fire, now decent sized flames crackled. The water was close to boiling. She gave it a few more minutes till it bubbled rhythmically. Hana carefully poured some in a cup for him, and another small quantity in another mortar sized bowl. She ripped off the hem of her own tunic. Hana located some cleaning rags in the forge, and brought her supplies into Thorin's room. She pulled a chair beside his bed, and made used of the tiny table beside it. As she rolled up her sleeves and raised her hand to clean off his arm, he pulled back with a jerk. His recoil made her agitated.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be. It will hurt, but it is to help you. If it doesn't get cleaned, it will fester and worsen." She glanced at him, biting the top of her lower lip.

Thorin looked Hana in the eye. He did not answer for a full minute. "Very well," he muttered. He realized resistance was futile.

She very gently dabbed off the blood, dirt, and pus, and Thorin muttered some Dwarvish curse words under his breath. Hana was not sure if they were directed at her or just exclamations of pain. _By my beard, woman….stop….stop…._"Stop. Please," he croaked pleadingly.

Hana paused for a moment. She had managed to clean it well, and could see the wound clearly. "I still have to do the leg, Thorin. I will work as quickly as you allow me to. That means you have to…(she sighed) cooperate."

She rinsed off the rag and set to work dabbing and cleaning the burn on his leg. It was worse than the wound on his arm. Hana quickly reached for a clean rag. It looked as if the blade had likely stuck to the skin a few seconds before he either whipped it away or it fell on the floor. Raw, red, wet skin lay exposed. Thorin cursed more, and yelled aloud. He grabbed his covers and squeezed them. Hana leaned some of her own weight on him to keep him from squirming. "Almost done….almost done (she cleaned the surrounding skin) there. I'm done. Now come the bandages."

Thorin breathed heavily as Hana tenderly wrapped the longer bit of rag around his leg. He winced as the fabric stuck to the wound. Then with care, she wound the small length of rag around his arm.

"I'm done, for now. I'll have to put some medicine on them later. Now try to drink." She helped him sit up. Hana had brought the tea hoping to drink it casually over conversation, not under these circumstances. But she was glad it had gone to use. Hana was pleased to see he drank it all. She set the cup down on the little bedside table, and helped Thorin lie back down. She covered him gently and gathered the used bandages and medical waste to dispose of, when his long, thick arm reached out for her wrist. It caught her off guard. Even sick and injured, his grip was strong.

"Hana..." he said softly. His head did not move, his eyes did not open.

"Yes?" She moved closer to hear him. He reached for her free hand and grasped it. It was ice cold.

"Stay, please. Stay close. If this is to be my last night….please."

Hana sat in the chair, Thorin still holding on to her.

"It won't be your last night. I'm getting you medicine and you'll heal."

"In case it is." He turned his head weakly to face her and his eyes barely opened.

She set down the used rags and took his hand with both of hers.

"I'm not going anywhere. Whatever you need…just tell me." She stayed seated until he fell asleep.

* * *

Please check out **Fearlessness**, a superb Legolas/OC fiction written by my wickedly multi-talented friend, **OrangeGoggles**. The research and care she has put into growing this story and her commitment to authenticity makes for a thrilling reading adventure. Give it a go, you'll be glad you did. :)


	4. Cures In Briarly

Texas Bobcat: Here you go! Hope you enjoy it! July reviewers, thank you so much for taking the time to read and leave reviews. :)

* * *

Nightfall came quickly. Hana kept the fire going, and sat at the chair beside Thorin's bed when not washing bandages or her hands. The winds grated on the walls and roof of the smithy mercilessly. Hana was not aware she had fallen fast asleep in the chair, when three steady knocks were heard at the door. She second-guessed herself, wondering if it was just the wind. When three more knocks came, she looked over at Thorin, fast asleep and breathing hard. Bleary eyed, she armed herself with the largest of three knives she had with her. She stuck it in her belt, and proceeded cautiously towards the door. There were male voices on the other side. "Thorin….we're freezing out here. Answer!" One of the voices insisted gruffly. Hana mentally planned out what to do if an attack followed, and unbolted the door. When she slowly pulled it back just open enough to see out, she saw two Dwarves standing opposite her. The dim light of the fire inside offered her poor visibility. One Dwarf was more elderly than the other. The elderly one revealed a remarkable tuft of white hair when he pushed back the hood of his cloak. The other Dwarf, taller and a bit younger looking, did not push back his hood. Hana thought she had seen them both before, but could not place them immediately. ] Both Dwarves were visibly shocked when they saw not Thorin answering the door, but a _woman_. A young, feminine, non-Dwarf woman. The older one spoke first, after allowing himself a moment of shock and wonder at the unexpected but pleasant sight before him.

"Good evening, lass. We were looking for someone who lives here, a Dwarf by the name of Thorin. Thorin Oa.." The other, hooded Dwarf turned to the older one and silenced him. "Balin! SHH!" he snapped. He faced Hana again, every inch of his face wearing suspicion. Why did she answer, and not Thorin? _Who was this woman_?

Hana frowned at the older one, rather confounded.

"Oh, forgive my lack of manners. Balin." He bowed at her, and though he too looked puzzled by the woman at the door, he smiled warmly at Hana. The other Dwarf did not. He stared at Hana, alert, cautious, even with a twinge of disgust.

"Where is he?" The other Dwarf bellowed at her. He turned around to survey the dark night, impatient. "Maybe he's not even here. Maybe we have the wrong place."

Balin looked at his companion with incredulity. "For heaven's sake, man, have some manners. This ornery bloke is Dwalin, my brother. We are kin of Thorin's. Is he, 'em…about?"

Hana was not about to stand for the rude Dwarf's tone. She did not even look at him when she answered Balin.

"How do I know you're telling me the truth?"

Balin was not expecting this comeback. He looked down and blinked a few times, mildly agitated. "If he saw us he'd know us. I swear on my honor as a Dwarf…" He glanced at her dubiously.

Hana was not sure he was being truthful, but trusted him more than his ornery companion. She sized both of them up, remembering the knife in her belt.

"Yes, he's here," she said quietly. "But….he's… "

Balin's eyes widened as he awaited her answer. Dwalin's narrowed.

"He's wounded, burns from working. I think he may also have come down with a fever. Do you want to come in? It makes no sense to stand out there…freezing." She shook her head briskly with doubt and admitted them in. Hana did not really want to admit them. Light snow trickled from their boots as they tramped the floor. Dwalin stood taller than Hana, about as tall as Thorin stood. Balin was a little shorter. Dwalin removed his hood, and Hana instantly remembered where she had seen them before. His tattooed head gave him away. He was the Dwarf who rudely blocked her way up the stairs one of the nights she stayed at the inn. They exchanged some hostile glances before Balin broke the silence.

"Where is he? Balin asked in a hushed tone. Hana led them to Thorin's room. Hana left them for a moment to drop another log in the fire and returned. She could hear them muttering under their breath. Both Dwarves stood at the end of the bed, looking at their friend with concern.

"What happened, exactly?" Balin asked. Dwalin just looked at Thorin, seemingly disconnected from the situation. His face read with concern and shock.

Hana stood in the doorway; her sleeves rolled up to her elbows and observed the two Dwarves. "He told me he burnt himself with a blade he dropped. Apparently did not tend to the burns properly because now there's an infection and fever." Hana strode in and sat beside the bed, gingerly peeling back the bandage on Thorin's forearm. She frowned slightly, wrinkled her nose, and carefully removed it. The perplexed Dwarves watched her every move as Hana set the dirtied bandage aside and wrapped a fresh one on the wound. As she fastened it, she looked up at them, not moving her head.

"What is your business here, if I may ask?" Hana did not mean for her question to come out as harsh as it did.

Dwalin looked up from his sick friend at her, saying nothing. Balin was about to speak but Dwalin beat him to it.

"To _talk_ to him. Obviously…" He let out an exasperated breath. "How long has he been like this?"

"This is the second night he's been sick. His condition is….worsening. If his fever doesn't break in the next couple of hours, action will have to be taken." Hana's voice was low. She looked at the wall, her dirty hands in her lap, fingers splayed out.

Balin took the opportunity to interpolate. "What sort of action? Is this serious?" He walked closer to Thorin, examining his pale face. Dwalin did also, using his thick thumb to lift Thorin's eyelids. "Look at his eyes, brother!" Dwalin murmured quietly. He scowled at Hana and left the room. Hana stood up and wiped her hands on her trousers. She sighed wearily and then spoke to Balin.

"It is quite serious. If whatever is causing this infection has reached his bloodstream, it will cause septicemia. Blood poisoning. It may have already. It might be what is causing his fever and chills. If left untreated, it will kill him." Hana bit her lower lip and shivered, and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead. She was about to sit down in the chair for a minute to rest when another forceful knock on the door was heard.

She sat upright and looked at Balin. Dwalin turned from them and answered the door. More male voices were heard as Dwalin greeted visitors. Presently, two more Dwarves joined them in Thorin's room. They were younger than Balin and Dwalin, and looked closer to Hana in age. When they threw back their hoods, Hana discerned they were both quite handsome. One was fair-haired, with elaborate clasps binding the thin plaits in his hair and moustache. The other was darker haired, his mane tousled and unbraided. He had but a few days growth of beard and moustache on his bright eyed, youthful face. Balin embraced them both, and the Dwarves walked to the edge of Thorin's bed where Dwalin stood earlier. They took in the sight of their sickened comrade, but no notice of the young woman sitting in the chair beside the bed. It was not until the fair-haired Dwarf walked closer to Thorin and leaned over him to listen for breathing that he beheld Hana, looking back nonchalantly. His companion walked closer to the bed after exchanging hushed words with Dwalin, presumably about Hana, because the dark haired young Dwarf turned to face her. Both of the new arrivals glimpsed at Hana with widening eyes, as if she were freak of nature. She was fading with fatigue, so she let them speak first.

"Who might you be, ma'am?" The fair-haired one asked.

Hana shifted in the chair wearily. She leaned over and felt Thorin's forehead and cheek with the back of her right hand. This action did not go unnoticed by the Dwarves in the room.

"My name is Hana. I live nearby…." The fair one began to ask her "How do you know…"

Hana interrupted. She screwed up her eyes and then opened them again rapidly, fighting off sleep. "He's my friend. Who are you two? I heard you whisper _uncle_..." She also spied similar patterns on the fair-haired Dwarf's clothing she had seen before on Thorin's.

"I'm Fili. This is my brother, Kili. We're Thorin's nephews. Our mother, Dis, was his sister." Kili's dark eyes were keenly alert. Hana did not know if it was nerves or just his nature, but it was a bit distracting.

"Dwalin here tells us he's ill," said Kili grimly.

"Yes, that's correct." Hana stood up and took a clean rag out, gently dabbed it in a bowl of clean water and put it on Thorin's forehead. Closer observation revealed his color was paler, and his clammy skin felt searing hot. Hana leaned her ear closer to Thorin to listen to his breathing. All four Dwarves watched her with reservation as she placed her hand, icy cold on his chest and then felt his right wrist. She held her pointer and middle fingers on his wrist for a few seconds and then let go. Balin walked closer to her, facing Hana, and nervously asked, "What is it, is he still….?"

Hana nodded briskly. "Yes, he's still alive. But he might not be for much longer unless I get access to some medicines. " She breathed deeply and turned to Fili, who stood like a guard at the left side of the bed for a while. "How bad is the weather out there?" she asked.

Fili shrugged. "Not bad at all, yet, just very cold. Why?" He and Kili, who was standing beside him, looked at each other, their glance saying it all. _What was this strange woman thinking? _Dwalin, who stood in the doorway with a mug in hand, drinking, rolled his eyes at her.

Hana marched out of the room purposefully, grabbed her cloak and gloves, and reached in her cloak for two vials, which she handed to Balin as she gave him instructions.

"Here. This is athelas (she held up a vial with white powder in it and pressed it into his hand). Please see if you can get Thorin to ingest some, especially if he begins to convulse. Keep cold, yes, cold compresses on his forehead and listen for his breathing constantly. I left a day's worth of compresses in his room. Please try to get him to drink some water. It's important." Balin looked back anxiously at Hana. He looked as if she asked him to bake a cake. Hana slide her longest blade into a sheath on her belt.

"Where are you going off to, Hana? Why are you leaving? He's…"

"I have to. I'm going to Briarly to the apothecary to find him something stronger, something to cleanse his bloodstream. It's vital that I go."  
Dwalin, who watched this transpire, but had had the sense not to interject for a while, took the opportunity. "You're not using some sort of dark medicine on him. Whatever you have done so far seems to have had little effect."

Hana's face turned red with anger. Her cheeks burned, and not from the fire in the hearth. "Well, if I do not try this, he will certainly die. If I do not go tonight, it might be too late. I don't see you doing anything constructive but standing around, observing. So don't interfere if you can't be of help." She met his eyes, determined, furious. He said nothing, a bit shocked that the woman spoke to him in such a manner, but was fuming. Fili, KIli, and Balin watched, silent and glimpsing at Hana in a mixture of awe and bewilderment. She gave Dwalin a parting raise of her eyebrows, a side tilt of her head, and proceeded to the door. She knew Dwalin was watching her with contempt as she left. Hana had not been out of the door ten seconds when it flew open.

"Hana! Wait!" shouted Kili as he ran to catch up with her. The clop of his boots grew louder as he approached her. Fili followed. _What do they want? I haven't got time for this. _She sighed with exasperation.

"I really ought to get going," said Hana sternly, right hand perched stubbornly on her hip.

"Let us come with you. You're leaving at night, headed through the mountains alone. Please." Kili was so overly animated as he spoke Hana actually tried to suppress a smile.

"I've been there several times. I'll be fine." She almost turned to leave again. Fili stood a few paces behind his brother. "We've got ponies," he said. "It'll go faster. Didn't you say that Thorin's time might be running short? This way you'll get to Briarly by daybreak and might be back here by nightfall tomorrow, if the weather is on our side."

Hana could not argue with his point. She knew time was growing short. She turned her eyes to Kili, she could see the whites of his eyes, even in the dark. Fili looked equally as earnest, brow furrowed. She had the intuition she could trust them not to harm her, but was not sure of their cleverness. She knew she needed to act quickly.

"Do you have enough ponies?" She was not about to ride with one of the Dwarves. Kili nodded.

"Let's go, then," Hana agreed. "I'll lead the way." The three of them quickly saddled up the ponies and headed out of town in a slower trot, then increased to a galloping speed as they were surrounded by woods. The cold air enveloped them within minutes. Hana hoped with all her heart that Thorin would be alive when they returned.

The journey to Briarly should have seemed shorter than it did to Hana, especially since she was on horseback. Fatigue was slowly claiming her, but she fought it with tenacity. Fili and Kili rode closely behind. The meandering road through the woods was cloaked in foggy darkness, occasionally streaked with moonlight. The faint glow of Fili and Kili's lanterns barely lit the path a few feet ahead of them. The sounds of wind mixed with the faraway echo of a wolf 's howl followed them as they rode. Hana's fingers were growing numb as she held the reins. She began to hold them precariously loose, in her palms, as her fingers were losing the ability to grip. Her fingertips were succumbing to frostbite. Once out of the woods, they would ride through rocky mountain terrain for a good two hours, and she knew she needed to stay vigilant for that portion of the trip. Visibility was poor in the dark, more than once Hana thought she lost both Dwarves, who stayed close behind. The woods seemed to go on endlessly over the next few hours. As the sun rose signaling the impending dawn, Hana reached to pull her reins to slow the pony down. She overestimated her energy and almost lost her balance. Hana came to a stop and Fili and Kili followed suit, seeing she was waiting to speak to them.

Fili screwed up his face at the wind and the rising sun shone hazy orange on him, bathing him in light. "What's the matter? Why did you stop?"

Through broken breaths Hana found words. "It's about two hours through the mountain to Briarly. (She nodded her head in the direction ahead of them, breath short). Once there, we will come upon the apothecary presently. Watch yourself out here, the terrain's uneven." The cold made her lungs burn. Hana was unsure if she could last two more hours to reach Briarly, let alone the journey back to Eldfell.

Fili glanced at Hana, frowning. Kili mirrored his brother's expression, looking a bit more confused than concerned.

"You alright?" Fili asked her.

Hana did not turn to look at Fili when she answered briskly, blowing off his question. "I'm fine. Onward." Her pony continued. The brothers looked at each other doubtfully and followed Hana as they left forest behind and approached the vast, rocky road ahead.

The two hours through the mountains were dangerous, not only because of the terrain, but because of the threats lurking in the crags and caves within. The boy who drove the cart to Briarly would often talk at length about the possibility of running into predators, specifically wild cats, bears, and animals he had heard described as enormous wolves – with riders. No one had lived to see these, he told her, but he had heard stories of them in the taverns he frequented. Hana would pay dim attention to most of his babble on those journeys, but the wolves with riders stuck in her memory. She knew what they were. The deceptive sun provided the three with good light, but not much warmth. A dense expanse of tall pines signaled the edge of Briarly in the distance. Hana was again reminded to keep her wits about her as she noticed a hawk flying above them, its call loud against the cold silence of the morning. She gasped as she almost lost her balance again, and knew it would not go unnoticed.

As they made their way into Briarly, Hana paused about a mile from the apothecary and motioned for the Dwarves to come closer. Their ponies stood in a triad as she spoke to them quietly.

"I already know what I need, so leave the talking to me, unless you need something as well. I'm not trying to sound harsh, I just know how to deal with this woman. It might be better if you wait outside, with the ponies." Hana covered her mouth with the side of her hand and coughed into it.

Fili frowned at her, mildly suspicious, but nodded. Kili did as well, and they slowly rode up to the hovel. The withered yew tree had a sprinkling of snow on its branches. The smoke coming from the stumpy chimney gave Hana relieve as she dismounted, not only because someone was inside, active, but also for a brief respite from the cold. Fili and Kili hopped off as well, then Fili took the reins of all three ponies.

"Use caution," Kili said softly, eyes as wide and earnest as ever. Fili nodded in agreement with a furrowed brow. "Call if you need us, he said confidently, motioning to an ornate sheath holding a knife in his belt.

Hana felt her sleeve to ensure the vials were still there, and with a toss of her long, dark hair, glanced back at them both.

"I will," she answered truthfully. She turned and timidly opened the door, as the smell of burning wood, hemp, and must preceded her entry. It was not much warmer inside, much to Hana's disappointment. The sound of her boots on the old wood floor and the pained creak of the door sounded her arrival. The old man who usually assisted his wife was there, but not the wife. He stopped tending a bubbling concoction over a small iron cauldron and stood with his back to the door, a hunched over mass. He turned around slowly. The startled man looked tired and mildly inconvenienced by Hana's presence. He waited until she flipped back her hood to speak.

"Can I 'elp you, miss?" The man spoke through the right side of his mouth. His ears and nose might have been more proportionate to the size of his narrow face in his youth, but looked too large for his elderly frame now. He pursed his almost nonexistent lips without nuance and narrowed his eyes shiftily at her, blinking purposefully.

Hana strode as close to he edge of the table as she could without looking pushy.

"Yes sir, I wish to trade for a few specialized items if you have them…(she reached into her cloak to pull out the vials) cures, specifically." She awaited his answer, as she placed each one in front of him.

"What sort of cures, lass?" he asked. His rapid blinking was distracting to Hana but she tried to ignore it. She was impatient and did not have time for inane questions.

"For serious infection. Caused by wounds that were not treated properly. I need the strongest you have, and quickly."

The old man sensed the urgency in her voice and started nodding before Hana finished her sentence. He slowly made his way to a shelf behind the table, and searched for about a minute. He pulled out a small jar. Then he crouched down, bent over, and reached gingerly into a cabinet at the base of the shelf, not visible from where Hana stood impatiently. He carried the jar and two small bottles, about the length of her hand, with shaking hands. He spoke as if he were giving her first time instructions. "I can get you some comfrey for the skin treatment. Use this salve on the wounds themselves, until healed. It will sting, but flush the wound out with saltwater first." He reached under the table and pushed a tiny burlap pouch shakily towards Hana. Then he motioned to the two small bottles and looked back at her, his blinking becoming incessant as he spoke in earnest. "This is echinacea, this other one is refined cannabis. These will both be effective in treating the infection and for pain relief. Mix a measure of the echinacea into hot water up to twice a day, morning _and_ at night, if needed. (He waved his hand in emphasis). "The cannabis can be smoked, in a common pipe. Stop use of both after the wound is healed and the fever is gone."

Hana picked each of them up in her gloved fingers and held them one by one at her eye level to inspect them. Then she put them next to the small jar of comfrey salve. She let out a couple of deep breaths and spoke. "These might make the difference between life and death for him."

The old man looked back at her, blinking aggravatingly, and squeezed his lips a few times, into a straight line. "These here are your best shot at treating severe wounds and fever, girl."

Hana nodded to herself as she placed both hands on the counter calmly.

"What is the pouch for?" she asked.

"To store them in, at least on your journey back." He was becoming annoyed with her.

"How much do you want for these?"

The man gave his head an annoyed twitch. 'What have you got?"

Hana looked to her left a moment, and pinched her lips together as she thought. She reached into her cloak, up in to her left sleeve, and extracted a tiny bottle no bigger than her thumb. It was not like the other, nondescript, clear glass vials she kept. It was opaque glass, with a silvery substance inside, an ultra fine powder. Its lid was reinforced by two little hinged brackets on each side.

"What's that?" the man asked when she slowly, calculatedly, placed it in front of him.

Hana took in his wonder, and answered plainly. "It's an Elvish antivenom. Specifically for lethal poisons, like spiders. It is very hard to find, and takes months to mature." She leaned her forearm on the wood and flexed her fingers as he inspected the jar, held inches from his elderly eyes. "How do I know what you say is true?"

Hana remained calm. "I have no reason to lie. I have two witnesses outside that would vouch for me. I will give you this as well." She pushed forward the last three coins she had on her.

The man eyed the coins, the jar again, then looked her in the eye and nodded.

"Very well, girl. _Very_ well. This will do."

"Right then. Give your wife my regards." Hana said, as she threw her hood on and turned towards the door.

He was too enthralled with the jar to answer Hana back.

Hana, Fili and Kili began the journey back to Eldfell through overcast skies. As they edged out of Briarly and made for the mountains, Hana kept flexing her hands in the pony reins to keep the blood flowing. She felt a twinge of sadness at having traded away some of the antivenom she had spent months perfecting. It represented a success she had achieved in her life, amid difficult circumstances, and felt like trading away a prized possession. She knew, though, that the situation called for it. She and the Dwarves kept up a brisk trotting pace, as not to tire out the ponies and make good travel time. After meandering through the mountains, they still had about an hour through the woods before they reached their destination. They had been out of Briarly for about a half an hour when Fili, who was riding a few yards ahead of Kili and Hana, pulled his pony to an abrupt stop and raised his hand to signal halt.

Hana rode closer to Fili and saw his face wrought with apprehension.

"Fili, what is it, why've you.."

"Shh! Don't….I thought I saw something move out there." His amber colored eyes were alight.

Kili rode closer and stopped alongside his brother. "An animal?"

"No. Definitely not animal. And there was more than one. I thought I saw two. There could be more…we should stick closer together, at least until we reach the forest."

Hana's hood blew back as the wind strengthened. "We cannot afford to lose time, Fili. We need to move fast. Thorin will not survive another full day without treatment." Her tone was anxious with a hint of exasperation. She did not have the energy to argue.

Kili looked at them both , one, then the other, sporadically as tension grew. Fatigue and urgency did not make for a harmonious combination. Fili scowled at Hana and his tone grew cross.

"Speed will only separate us. Whatever is out there could be waiting to kill us. If we spread out, we will be easier to take down. This is a group travel safety measure." He faced his brother and Hana, decisively preventing them from passing.

Kili took the opportunity to speak. "It is not the whole journey, just this stretch of mountain pass. It is safer if we stick together, Hana, you must trust us." He leaned in towards Hana, on his right, and said in a low voice, "All sorts of foul dangers lurk in the mountains." Again, his eyes grew wide and distractingly animated.

Hana said nothing. She sighed in defeat and shook her head. 'Well let's continue, then."

As they rode in close formation, they still kept up a decent pace, though they were moving slower than before. They were coming upon a large vertical rock crevasse on the edge of the woods when Fili's pony whinnied with caution. It stopped and kept jerking its head in he opposite direction, trying to lead the party in reverse. He turned and confronted Hana and Kili, shaking his head. "She senses it. Whatever I saw, it is nearby," said Fili, voice worried. The wind blew against the mountain quiet. No other sounds were heard but he clopping of hooves and the nervous breathing of the other two. Fili was slightly ahead of Hana and Kili, and her back was to the long stretch of mountain pass behind them.

"Look out!" Fili yelled at her. His warning came a few seconds too late. The creature's club struck Hana in the side of the face before she saw it coming. The pony screamed as another swing came, almost striking it in the legs. Hana was thrown onto the rocky ground, the wind knocked out of her. Her palms were bruised and deeply grazed as she attempted to stop her fall. It hurt as she pushed them to the cold rock. She stumbled to her feet, shaken. A warm trickle crept down from her mouth. She touched her hand to the side of her face where the club hit, and saw the blood on her fingertips. Her jawline had been hit, so hard her teeth rattled like a hammer in her mouth. One of her molars felt like it had been loosened. Arrows whistled past her as Kili aimed for her assailant, who was charging the three of them without hesitation. "There's another!" screamed Fili as a different attacker boldly grabbed at his boots in an effort to pull him off his pony. Fili kicked his aggressor in the face and brandished one of his many blades, slicing at its face. Kili fired an arrow into the first creature's leg, as Hana tried to make sense of what was happening. She got her bearings straight after a few moments, determined and enraged. She wielded the largest blade she had on her, and holding its serrated edge in plain view, went straight for the first one. In the seconds it took him to locate his dropped club, she swiftly kicked him in the groin. He groaned and fell to his knees for a minute. He resembled a Dwarf in stature and bone structure, but was much dirtier, with beady, savage eyes that exuded contempt. His clothing was filthy and hair matted. Even with the arrow in his leg, he looked at her with only one motive: to finish her. When he spotted the Elvish blade in her hand, the whites of his were alight, his rotting teeth bared in disgust. Hana kneed him again, as hard as she could in the back, the creature crumbled to the ground, writhing. She grabbed the creature by the hair, and held the blade to his throat. He shouted curses at her in a language she did not understand, but the tone said it all. He foamed at the mouth like a rabid animal.

"LET HIM GO! NOW! OR I WILL RIP HIS THROAT OPEN!" She screamed out in a hoarse voice at the other bandit, who had been waving his own club at Fili, even though Kili had fired an arrow into his thigh. Both assailants were grimy, their mottled, wrinkled faces covered in thick dirt, as were their coarse, large hands. Fili's opponent had now succeeded in pulling him off his pony, and was slowed by Kili's shots, but no less driven. He had Fili pinned on his back, his club raised above the Dwarf's head, ready to pulverize him.

Hana tightened her grip as much as she could on the first creature's neck, yanking its hair. She was out of breath, her head throbbed, and her body bruised. She would not relent until the bandits surrendered.

Fili looked up at her, saying nothing. Kili walked forward gingerly, bow aimed at the second creature's head. He bellowed something at Fili's adversary, words Hana did not understand but assumed was Dwarvish. The creature lowered his club, but did not drop it until Kili pulled the string of the bow, ready to fire. Fili took the chance to kick the creature in the abdomen, immobilizing him. He leaned in, face to face with his would be killer, and voiced a warning, snarling. Hana was ready to kill her hostage, but Kili lowered his bow and out the arrow back. "Don't, Hana. Don't waste your energy." He walked a few steps toward the struggling, filthy captive and grabbed him by the neck, issuing a warning. Whatever he said, Hana's attacker did not like, as he snarled back at Kili in his crude language.

"They have been warned. The next time they attack us they die," Kili said coolly, as he stepped back. Hana looked back at the creature, which had stopped moving, but glanced at her, awaiting her parting shot. Hana delivered it to him, in the form of a sharp blow across the face.

"Should we jog his memory?" Kili asked.

"Yes. I'll be….(she kicked him in the head) happy to." They turned to Fili, who did the same to his assailant.

The three of them rejoined the ponies, which had been spooked and were jittery. Hana looked pained as she touched her jaw, holding her pony's reins in the other hand. It had already begun to swell. Fili scowled at her, assessing her wound.

"Will you be able to ride?" He asked, concerned. Fili had been looking out at their unconscious robbers. His glance echoed his brother's worry.

He helped Hana into her saddle, which she normally would have been annoyed by, but was grateful for the help.

"I think so, yes." Hana said quietly as the Dwarves hopped onto their ponies. "What were those things?" she asked, nodding in the direction of the two still bodies lying out on the rock.

Fili let out a deep sigh. "Those? They're petty dwarves," he said. "Thought to be extinct, from starvation and hunting. Hunting by Elves."

Kili scowled in the direction of Eldfell. "And they will be awake before long. We'd best keep going, if we are to reach Eldfell by dark."

Hana nodded. They set off, as the afternoon sun blazed their path.


	5. It Keeps Me Alive

Thank you, guest reviewer from 8.8.14! Your words mean so much! :)

* * *

By the time Hana, Fili, and Kili had reached Eldfell, dusk hung over them. The day was nearly spent, and so were they. None of them had said a word for at least three hours, since they had been riding through the woods. As they slowly approached the smithy, dim lights from the windows signaled activity inside. The sinister warning of an owl resounded in Hana's ears as they wearily tied up the ponies. Hana trod to the door, part of her dreading opening it. She did not want to hear Thorin was dead. "You alright?" Kili asked her softly as she approached the door.

Hana turned to him and nodded, exhausted. "I will be when I get something to drink," she answered. Fili knocked hard, and within seconds the door flung open. Dwalin answered it, managing a smile when he saw the Dwarves. He did not smile when he saw Hana stagger in, but actually showed some visible concern when she pulled back her hood. Over the afternoon's travel deep purple bruises had formed along the left side of her face, running from her cheekbone to her jawline. Veins of dried blood had settled in the cracks in her chapped lips and formed a small crust in the left corner of her mouth. The petty dwarf's club had left its mark on her.

"What happened to you all?" queried Balin as he walked forward to greet them, touching Fili and KIli affectionately on the shoulder and taking their cloaks for them. He saw Hana in a blur as she walked past them all and over to Thorin's bedside. His skin looked even clammier than it had when she left, he was pale as blanched flour. But she saw his chest moving, and heard his labored breath as she leaned in to listen.

Meanwhile, Fili and Kili informed Balin and Dwalin of the petty dwarf attack . Hana set to work, peeling her tattered gloves off of her mangled fingers and reached in her cloak for the medicines. Her hands were rough from the cold and her activity over the last few days, bruised and sore. She set the medicines on the small table beside his bed and felt Thorin's forehead with the back of her hand. It felt cooler than she expected, which she took as a positive sign. Dwalin, Fili, and Kili spoke in low, indistinct voices the next room over, but Balin tentatively stepped in Thorin's room and waited in the doorway a moment before speaking.

"I did everything you told me to. I gave him the athelas as you instructed, and attempted clean water every couple of hours. He has not drunk much, I'm afraid." He wore his concern plainly on his face. "Will he make it, Hana?" Balin's voice was grave. Hazy candlelight revealed his eyes had glassed over.

Hana nodded slowly, hearing Balin's words but looking at Thorin. The large framed Dwarf looked vulnerable and helpless lying in bed. Then she turned to face Balin.

"I think he will. What we need now…(Hana inspected his arm wound, then lifted the covers to see the leg) is to get these wounds cleaned again and a lot of hot water. And…(she touched his cheek) for him to wake up."

Balin nodded wordlessly. He pursed his lips anxiously and looked resolute. "I'll fetch some water." He turned from the door and disappeared for a few moments.

Hana set to work, though second-guessing herself. She had felt sick to her stomach since about an hour into the journey back to Eldfell. The feelings of nausea had been coming in waves. She knew much of it was due to lack of sleep over the last two days. _Wake up_, she told herself. _Shake it off._ _You will not do him any favors by messing this up. _Carefully, Hana opened the jar of salve to work into the wounds. She heard the shift of a body nearby. "I might need you to put on some more water, another potful yet," she said as assessed the leg wound, uneasy. Then she glanced at the doorway and bit her lip, pressing her mouth into a straight line, rather embarrassed. Dwalin was standing there, watching Hana work.

"Oh. _Sorry_," she said flatly, her eyebrows giving a jerk of sarcasm. She shook her head. "I thought you were B-"

"It's no problem. He is headed this way. I will see more water is put on for you." Hana could not tell if the look he was giving her was one of suspicion or mild appreciation. She was too tired to tell the difference.

She opened her eyes forcefully, wide, and looked down at the floor, then back at Dwalin.

"Thank you", she answered slowly. It took more effort than it should have for her to speak. "It is much appreciated." Hana was genuinely grateful. The hostile atmosphere between them had dissipated somewhat, at least for now. Dwalin nodded briskly at her.

Balin brought her back a bowl of hot water, and Hana immediately used her last two clean washcloths to delicately dab at the wounds. Pinkish white beginnings of scar tissue were seen when she lifted the damp fibers off of Thorin's skin. She could tell the slimy layer of antibodies on each had been reduced since she ventured out to Briarly. Hana was pleased, it meant someone had cleaned them while she was absent. Hana gently pressed the comfrey salve into the warm skin, all the while listening to Thorin breathe. It was constant, but ragged. Slowly, she wrapped makeshift bandages around each burn, keeping the layers uniform and lined up. All four Dwarves had curiously ventured in to Thorin's room to watch her work. Hana was too deeply concentrated on his treatment to notice, until it came time for her to make him drink.

"Have we got something clean for him to drink from, please?" she asked no one in particular, tense.

Kili retrieved a small ceramic cup from the other room and handed it to her. Balin and Dwalin looked at each other, each waiting for the other to speak. Dwalin volunteered.

"Should Thorin be drinking if he is unconscious?" he asked.

Hana leaned her forearms on her legs, doubled over. Part of her wanted to pass out from exhaustion. Part of her felt like being sick all over the floor. She felt terrible. She shook her swimming head before answering.

"When was the last time you saw him drink anything?" She asked, voice muffled as she faced the wood floor.

Balin shrugged nervously. "Er, em, I'd say about three hours after you left ," he said. "None since."

Hana sighed. A few weighty minutes passed before she sat up and spoke.

"He has to wake up and drink. Or he will die in the next two days."

His nephews looked at each other, shaken. Dwalin's eyes were cast downward, off to the side, grim. Then Hana stood up with a jerk, as the stool scraped the floor noisily. She said nothing as she walked erratically out of the room, out of the smithy. The Dwarves looked at each other, perplexed. Fili watched her walk in to the darkness. The sounds of retching could be heard. Several minutes passed before Hana came staggering back, her face cold and sweaty and her skin ashen colored.

Balin spoke as she stood in the doorway. "You get some rest. We will take our turns keeping watch. We know what to do. We will see to ensuring everything is washed. If he wakes…we will alert you."

Hana felt herself trembling. She looked at them all dizzily, as they watched her with concern. Hana was too weak with fatigue to be embarrassed, but she would be later. Her defenses and energy down, she nodded at them all. They did not bother her with further questions. Hana found a corner against the wall in Thorin's room and slumped down to the dusty floor, stretching her stiff legs out in front of her. She covered them with her cloak. After shifting for a few minutes, trying to make herself slightly comfortable, she stopped moving. The ambient thuds of footsteps and low, hushed voices mixed with the distant glow of the steady burning fire put her to sleep.

Hana did not know how long she had been asleep when she was abruptly awakened. The fire was dying, and it was serenely quiet. Faint morning light was pouring into the dark smithy as a she heard two voices murmuring quietly, but earnestly. Hana barely opened her eyes and noticed someone had covered her with a blanket during the night.

"His eyelids….they're moving! "

There was the sound of shifting bodies trodding the floor nearby.

"Bless my beard, he's waking up!"

"Âkminrûk, Mahal!"

Balin and Dwalin's voices woke her, and when Hana pieced together what they were saying, she felt the inner urge to walk over there and see for herself. Her mind willed her to. But her body was not moving.

"We had better go tell her…." Boots stepped hurriedly across the floor and Balin touched Hana's arm, shaking her anxiously. "He's waking up. Come and look." He waited to make sure she was awake and then turned in a blur of brown and white.

Hana did not dawdle. She stood up wobbly, her legs still stiff and her neck nursing a cramp from upright sleeping. Thorin was breathing a bit faster, more regularly. She sat beside him and felt his forehead, noticeably cooler than from the night before. Hana searched his face nervously, awaiting more positive signs.

"His eyelids were moving, I swear it…" said Balin agitatedly.

Hana reached slowly for Thorin's uncovered left hand, and felt his pulse. His hand felt warm, which made her optimistic . She moved her thumb across his palm and lightly rubbed her fingers across the top, hoping for more movement. His fingers twitched suddenly, then very slowly moved, curling over Hana's thumb. His fluttering eyelids seemed like they would never open, but they finally did after a tense wait. When they opened, Thorin looked out ahead of him, blankly, then at Hana. Though it was largely due to her intense fatigue, she felt her eyes tear up a bit. She smiled warmly at him as their fingers shifted and they held hands properly. Thorin said nothing at first, just looked at Hana, utterly dumbfounded.

"It's about time you woke up. Gave us all quite a scare there," said Dwalin, cracking a smile. Balin just watched, relieved and also smiling.

Thorin turned his eyes to the Dwarves at the sound of Dwalin's low voice. He did not let go of Hana's hand. Balin noticed it but kept his fleeting glance discreet.

Thorin tried to make sense of the situation, to sort out his bearings. Then he began to speak, clearing his throat. "How long –(the throat clearing turned into a wheezy cough) how long have I been under?" he asked them.

"Almost three days," said Dwalin. Balin shook his head emphatically, his facial expression matter of fact, eyebrows arched.

"How…how did…" Thorin stammered.

Balin folded his arms in front of him. "She did it," he said, as he nodded his head in Hana's direction. "Hana has been here the whole time. Only left with the lads to get you medicine."

Hana squirmed in her seat, not keen on the attention suddenly focused on her. She spoke up. "They did too. All of them. It was a group effort." Balin stood behind Hana, out of her sight, shaking his head "no" at Thorin. Dwalin's eyes turned awkwardly away from his brother's, trying to remain inconspicuous.

Thorin turned his glance from Balin, puzzled, back to Hana. Upon closer observation, he noticed her injuries. He felt her rough palm and let go of her hand, turning it over and looking. It was grazed, reddened and raw. "What happened to you?" He mustered up the strength to try and sit up. Dwalin pushed him back down.

"We ran into a skirmish on the way back from Briarly," she said quietly. "In the form of two petty dwarves. They wanted the ponies, and… we said no. In so many words." Her mouth formed a hint of a sardonic smile. Thorin was not smiling. "They did that?" He asked, nodding toward her face, his sick voice rumbling. He visually inspected the purple and red marks on her jaw.

Hana murmured in acknowledgement. "They roughed up your nephews as well. But (she sighed wearily)…it's over. Now _you_ need to drink." She reached over with her free hand for a cup of water, and handed it to him. Thorin would not stop ogling her injured face. She felt uneasy being watched over the rim of the cup as he drank. Rapid footsteps grew louder as Fili and Kili entered the room, groggy but happy to see their uncle awake and alert. Hana let go of Thorin's hand and stepped away from the bed, so his nephews could greet him. She let them edge her out as the Dwarves all conversed in earnest. Hana retreated into the front room of the smithy to do some needed washing. After getting a much needed drink of water, she plunged her hands into the hot water to wash some bandages and clothes. The water burned her injured hands as she gingerly kneaded the fabric. Hana desperately craved sleep and solitude. She made her mind up to leave the next day, after seeing Thorin safely through the night.

After administering the night dose of medicines, Hana found herself a spot against the wall in the front room to sleep. The Dwarves conversed with Thorin sporadically when he was not asleep. Hana did not sleep much. Another night sleeping upright and cold did not agree with her. She had not gotten a proper night's sleep in almost four days, and looked and felt dreadful. When she awoke, she managed to drink some tea and eat some bland soup Kili had prepared. Hana quietly slipped into Thorin's room as Balin had dozed off in the corner, slumped in a chair. She took the opportunity to give him his medicines, while there were not other bodies about and in her way. He was awake, and sat completely up when he saw her enter, with a cup of hot water for the echinacea in hand. Hana thought she felt his eyes on her as her back was turned slightly away. Her hands pressed hard against the jar of salve to open it. She screwed up her face as the wounded skin pulled against the lid.

Hana reached for the bowl of water on the table beside the bed to wash her hands. "How are you feeling today? You look better." She dried her hands with a small towel.

Thorin met her eyes, expressionless. "I feel better. (He heaved a deep sigh). You look rather….unwell." Hana's scalp crinkled as he fixated on her facial wounds.

Hana shrugged the comment off with a sigh of her own. "I'm just tired, is all," she said briskly. It was not entirely true. Hana looked at him, ready to treat him. He stiffened up as she motioned to his arm wound. Thorin looked at the open jar of salve, resolutely. "I don't need any more of that." Hana stopped rolling up her sleeve, caught rather off guard. She looked back at him frankly. "You _do_, actually. This is what is cleaning out the burn wounds. You may have noticed them improving. That didn't happen on its own." She raised both brows, hands on her knees. "So are you going to cooperate or not?" Hana's eyes narrowed. Fatigue was running her low on patience. She did not realize the others were watching from the doorway. A heavily tense moment passed between them, both staring each other down. "I would do as she says, Thorin," Balin said cautiously from the chair in the corner, having just awakened. It was the wrong thing to say. Thorin pursed his mouth annoyedly. Hana attempted to keep her tone civil as she spoke. "Now let me work. The sooner you stop griping the sooner I'll be done." She leaned closer to him, but Thorin pulled his arm away sharply. "NO!" He snapped at her, glaring. Hana remained as calm as she could. "Come now, stop it." She glanced at him incredulously. He pulled his arm further away. "For goodness sake, stop acting like a child, Thorin. This is what is going to _help_ you!" Thorin was bristling. His voice had regained some of its strength and sounded like its usual low registered growl. He sat further upright. Their faces were close enough together she felt his breath on her as he spoke. It was unpleasant smelling. "Let me tell you something, woman. (His voice shifted from a deadly calm to a yell.) I DON'T TAKE ORDERS! I GIVE THEM! I don't take them from anyone, not even you!"

A look washed over his face after yelling at her, perhaps a twinge of regret. Thorin did regret his tone, at least. Hana felt the anger rising in her like boiling water. This was not what she needed, after trekking to Briarly, nearly dying. Not to mention the sheer exhaustion she was battling. Calmly, she bit her lower lip, trying to control her reaction. She looked down at the floor. Then she stood up suddenly, knocking the stool and a bowl of water over. "Then we have a problem," she shouted back, pointing to herself. "Because I don't take orders, either, from anyone! Be it on your own head, Thorin! As of now, I wash my hands of you!" Hana threw her hands up and turned suddenly, then grabbed her cloak and made for the smithy door. The Dwarves scurried out of her way, then one by one ventured to follow her. Fili stopped her as she approached the door. He put his hand on her arm. "Wait, Hana, don't go. Please. Uncle is grumpy and stubborn by nature. He doesn't mean it. Please don't..." Hana interrupted him. "No. I will not be treated this way. I won't stand for it. I'm exhausted. I'm going home. See that he finishes the treatment. So I know this wasn't a total waste of my time and effort." She left. Fili then boldly confronted his uncle. "You made a mistake, driving her away. She knew what she was doing, Uncle. Do you know what she went through to get you those medicines?" Balin followed her out. "Hana, wait!" he called. He ran after her. "Please! WAIT!" Hana ignored him. She stormed out of sight, breathing furiously, and headed for the woods, kicking the dirt angrily with each step.

Dwalin stood by the fireplace, looking at the door thoughtfully. He said nothing at first. Then, heavy footsteps signaled his entry to Thorin's room. "Well you buggered that up," he said morosely. "Now you've got to take your chances with us. And Balin is gone, so you're really at our mercy." He folded his arms across his chest decisively. Thorin scowled blankly at the door, glowering. "I will not be told what to do," he growled. "By anyone. If I die, so be it."

A couple of days passed since Hana and Thorin's spat in the smithy. Midway through the afternoon on the second day, Hana was carrying wood, ignoring the threat of distant thunder overhead. It sounded further away than it actually was, as the breeze whispered through the trees with increasing loudness, heralding the looming storm. She thought she heard another sound beyond the clearing. A flock of crows jetted off suddenly with warning. Hana put the wood down and brandished a knife, certain someone or something was moving about in the distance. A rabbit came scuttling out of the clearing, panicked. Hana gripped the hilt, prepared to wield it, breathing fast, heart pounding. "Who's there?" she demanded. "Show yourself!"

A moment passed before Balin ventured timidly from the brush, hands raised. "I'm sorry I startled you, Hana," he said apologetically. Hana sighed with relief. She put the knife slowly back in her belt and looked around suspiciously. " Is there anyone with you?" she asked. Balin shook his head. Hana put a hand on her hip as he approached her and tried to calm herself. "How did you know I lived out here, Balin?" She asked. She waited for his answer and crouched down to pick up the dropped wood. Balin postponed his reply until he was closer. "Did you follow me?" She narrowed her eyes at him. Balin nodded. "Aye, I did. Forgive me...but I need to speak with you, and it can't wait." He did not try to lie to her. Hana paused and held the wood. "You may as well come in," she offered. "Looks like it's about to pour." She nodded in the direction of the door. "I'm much obliged," Balin said politely. Hana dropped the wood beside the hearth and knelt in front of it, helping to build a fire. Balin watched her work as the rain began to fall. "Have you no family, lass?" He frowned inquisitively. Hana looked up at him. _Why did he want to know?_ Then she nodded and looked down at the floor. "My father's an Elf," she muttered in a low voice. "No living immediate family." She looked back up at him, eyebrows raised nonchalantly. She could read him trying to make sense of what she just said. "I was _adopted_, obviously. As a small child." She sighed. "I miss him. But not enough to return home for a long time." Hana reflected on her words for a moment, then turned and put a pot of water on. She made them each tea and kicked off her boots. She sat on the floor, legs swung to the side, her dark hair in a loose ponytail. Beneath the bruises and dirt her green eyes shone, bright and alert. Balin sat opposite her, briefly admiring her natural, albeit marred, beauty. Hana returned his glance with slight annoyance.

"What is it?" she asked, her cup close to her mouth.

"Oh…nothing. Pardon me for staring, lass," he said hastily as he sipped from his own cup. "So you're probably wondering what was so important I had to follow you for," he said rather coolly.

Hana nodded as she swallowed, the warmth of the tea pleasing to her. She looked down at the contents blankly, frowning. "It must be important, for you to come out here. She sighed resignedly. "But how does it involve me?"

Balin began by rubbing his forehead agitatedly. She watched, puzzled and uneasy at what she was about to hear. He put his cup down, and began to pace in front of her. "What I am about to tell you, Hana, I don't tell many. No one, in fact, outside of my own kind. But...I think you should know. You saved his life. And in doing so... you saved our leader."

She rolled her eyes, then snorted. She put her own mug down, shook her head and folded her arms stubbornly. "If this is about Thorin, I do not wish to talk about him." Her eyes were cast down and off to the right. Balin stopped in front of her, standing and glancing at her with a solemn expression. "It is not just about him. It involves all of us Dwarves."

Hana was confused. She looked at Balin with squinted eyes. "I don't understand."

Balin nodded and bit his lower lip. "You wouldn't. Thorin is not who he appears to be."

She scoffed and followed with a mordant chuckle. "You mean he _isn't_ a stubborn git? You could've fooled me." She shook her head and scoffed again bitterly. She was not prepared for what Balin was about to tell her. He looked back at her, gravely.

"Come have a look at this with me. I need to show you something," Balin said to her. Hana was unsure, but indulged him by walking to where Balin stood.

"Have you heard of Erebor?" he asked. Hana's eyes were widened curiously, eyebrows knitted together. It took her a minute to process the question. Then a sign of recognition showed in her eyes. "You mean the Lonely Mountain..." Hana interrupted. "Yes," Balin answered.

"Yes, of course. I've heard my father discuss it. It was renowned for its wealth and prosperity." Hana wondered where this conversation was going. Her nerves began to bother her.

The Dwarf reached in his cloak and pulled out a scroll, about the length of her forearm. It was aged, yellowed, and tattered on the edges. Balin held it in his hand, glanced thoughtfully at it, then her, and sighed. There was a pained look in his eyes. He laid it out in front of Hana on her small, one person sized table. The edges kept curling in as the aged document recoiled itself. She weighed it down with two small, empty jars. "What am I looking at?" she asked tersely, as she ran her fingers down the edges. The parchment detailed what looked like a family tree, but in cryptic, undecipherable text. She assumed it was Dwarvish. "I can't read that," she declared, annoyed. Balin turned his back to her, arms folded. He shook his head. "No. I would not expect you to." He waited a few moments as Hana studied the characters on the parchment, puzzled. The runes in front of her had been written ages before, the parchment easily three or more times her age. "Look at the bottom most word," Balin said. She did, utterly lost. "What does it say, Balin?" she asked, fearing his answer. He faced her, his eyes glistening

and brimming with emotion. He took steps forward, and stood beside her. He ran his fingers down the tree of names. "That is Thror (he tapped his finger on the characters in emphasis). Down here, is his son, Thrain. He, like his father, succumbed to a sort of...madness. And this…(he took Hana's right index finger and made her point to it as well) reads Thorin, son of Thrain," he said seriously. "Which makes him the next King Under the Mountain, King of Durin's folk." He let go of her hand. Hana did not move it. She looked at the parchment, mystified.

"He's a king. The king of our people, the Dwarves." Hana stood silently, taking in what Balin had just said, replaying it in her head. "What?" she asked, not wanting it repeated as much as she tried to make sense of this revelation. Her tone was sharp. _Thorin was a king? What?! No, no…surely there must be a mistake. _ He waited a moment before answering.

"You heard me correctly. He is King of Erebor. (Balin licked then pursed his lips, his face emotive and conflicted, as if he were suffering from an intense headache). But long exiled, driven out forcefully after the firedrake, Smaug attacked us. Thorin got as many of us as he could to safety. We had never experienced such an attack before, and were completely unprepared. So many lives were lost. Those who survived….have been in hiding ever since." He looked up at Hana, who tried keeping her feelings under control. She was flabbergasted.

"He has mentioned the dragon attack to me before. But...he," her breath was shaky, "he managed to overlook this new detail when telling the story." Her eyes were wide, searching the floor as she shook her head with disbelief.

"He is stubborn. Maddeningly so, there's no denying that. But…(Balin heaved a thoughtful sigh) there are few braver or more loyal than he. You will come to see that in time, lass." Balin glanced at Hana, bewildered, her mind racing.

She felt crushed by her emotions. Hana felt a sort of fear at learning his true identity. "Is honesty one of his qualities, Balin? If so, you just had a hard time convincing me of it. Did he ever intend to tell me this?" She walked a few steps away from Balin, her arms folded resolutely across her chest as she looked blankly ahead at the wall. _He lied to me. He…he.. LIED to me._ Then, without warning, she picked up one of her boots and hurled it angrily against the wall, fuming. Balin's eyes widened in alarm. "What _else_ is he hiding? Has he got some secret family he plans to return to?" Hana panted from shouting and contemplated throwing her other boot. An uncomfortable silence passed over the next moment. She noticed this slight pause and faced him, as she awaited his answer. Balin carefully rolled the parchment up and tucked it back into his cloak. He eyed her warily, paused to see if it was safe to interject, then prudently replied. He licked his lips pensively.

"No, Hana. If you are referring to a wife and children, no. He has some blood relations who are still alive, two being his nephews. His father might be, but it is unlikely. He has a past…but I'll let him divulge that information to you." He finished with a curt nod. "I…I had better be going. I did not mean to upset you. I only meant to give you a clearer picture of what was going on. You have my – ourmost sincere gratitude, my dear. None of us could have done what you did for him." He touched Hana's right hand with his and squeezed it. "I do hope to see you again soon. Always…at your service." He bowed to her respectfully as he turned toward to the door into the late afternoon.

Hana looked at the closed door for a few minutes after Balin left. The King under the Mountain, he was. Did he care for her at all, even as an acquaintance? _Why did I tell him about myself? Why did he tell me about himself, and manage to skip these major details? _She racked her brain, furious with herself. _He never cared a bit, you idiot. You overestimated his regard. He was using you_, Hana told herself. She put on some water to boil and changed into a looser fitting shift. "Damn you, Thorin," she muttered as she started her fire. Then she burned her finger on the top log and shrieked. "DAMN YOU!" She yelled, shaking her hand to try and lessen the searing pain racking her fingers. Hana soaked the finger in some cool water, then drank her tea and ate a small meal, enough to hold her for a few hours. She had no more energy for work that evening. The sun had barely been set an hour before she washed up over a basin and collapsed into her bed, the hair around her face still damp as she had not bothered to fully dry her face. Exhaustion and anger were all she felt at that point. Light rain continued into the night, and Hana was asleep before she could curse him again.

Hana spent the next few days at work, busily grinding with the pestle, washing her clothes, scouring the woods for extracts to add to her stores. She took advantage of the weather, which remained cold but dry for almost a week since Balin visited her home. When she was hunting and searching in the forest, she was out from shortly after daybreak to late afternoon, about four o'clock. She trudged through the brush, turning over rocks, digging her fingers into the cold earth, scoping out the ravaged hollows of rotten tree trunks. She ventured to the banks of streams, even into the mountains on her pursuits. Her search yielded less than she hoped for, but she managed to harvest some lichens, mushrooms, and a small quantity of athelas. Hana managed to take some ochre yellow lichens in a patch of woods west of her hut, surrounded by table rock and ruins of an old menhir monument. They were a most advantageous find. Hana relied on her wit and weapons firstly as a defense, but was not above using toxins if the situation called for it. It was another survival tactic she had perfected because of her past. Hana spent her nights mending her trousers and dresses, which had tears in the hems and knees. During the long, quiet passing hours of the night she often thought about her father, and considered returning home. She wanted to see him again, while she was still alive and had the chance. But returning home would mean offering a difficult explanation for her fleeing, and apologies. Would he believe her? He would care where she was, and why she fled, even if no one else particularly did. Saeladan was a loving, warm father to Hana when he was present. He was gone for periods of time in her youth, starting when she was eight years old. He was gone sometimes for months at a time, but was always happy when they were reunited, and always brought her something from his travels, whether it was a small knife or a intricately designed, beautiful gilded belt. However displaced Hana felt among Elves in Rivendell, she never doubted his love for her. She decided she would, within the next two years, return to him, while she still had the chance, even though she was afraid to return.

On a rather overcast afternoon, returning from a reluctant venture into Eldfell, Hana was trudging through the carpet of dead leaves and brush into the woods, headed for home. She had gone into town for bread and rolled muslin for bandages. The walk back home, at about four in the afternoon, felt strange and ominous in some way, as if a storm was looming overhead. She kept her light pack slung over her shoulder as she strode, her right hand close to her belt, ready to draw her blade if she needed to. If there was one thing Hana learned a few times over the last year, it was to trust her gut instinct. The hiss of the wind through the tall, creaking conifers and the crunching of her soles on the ground were all she heard, save for the intermittent squawk of scolding crows.

As she came upon the clearing toward her hut, Hana felt a sense of warning in her chest, as if she were becoming rather short of breath. About two hundred yards from the door, she could not accurately see if it was ajar, but it certainly looked that way. As she ventured closer, she could see it was cracked open. Hana stopped walking, as not to alert the intruder to her presence, and gulped, then took a deep, pained breath. She paused a moment, and could hear the sound of intermittent banging and hammering as she moved in. Hana approached the door, knife drawn. She planned her blow ahead in her mind's eye, knowing one misstep could leave her dead. She gripped the cold hilt in her gloved right hand, inching closer to her door, hoping the sound of her steps would not give her away. The cold she felt through her gloves sent a shiver through her arm. She looked through the opening in the door and gasped. Hana lowered her blade, flustered and embarrassed. She rolled her eyes and breathed nervously, taken aback.

He was seated on the stool positioned behind the door, hammering into it meticulously. His mane was tied loosely down his back, and his grimy clothes looked like he had come from working in the forge, smeared. Hana gulped for breath, visibly shaken.

"What are you doing here, Thorin?" She demanded, putting the knife back into her belt, leaning in the doorframe. She would not look at him for several minutes, embarrassed for almost striking and angry at seeing him in front of her. Thorin hammered into the door about ten times, inspected the spot, then ten more. He frowned at it, and deliberately kept her waiting for a moment. Then he decided to answer her. "Something that should have been done a while ago," he said. "Did I not tell you how unsafe this was? It took barely a push." He glared at her as he spoke. Hana folded her arms across her chest. "Are you SCOLDING me?" She asked incredulously, her voice raised, eyes narrowed. He looked resolutely at the door, then raised his dark eyes at her. "No. I didn't come to scold you."

"You damn well better not be," Hana muttered under her breath, loud enough for Thorin to hear_. _Her arms remained folded. "Then _why_ did you come here?" She demanded with a jerk of her head and shrug of her shoulders. Hana did not attempt to disguise her displeasure. Thorin put his tools down, shifted onto the floor and sat cross-legged, as he thought deeply. One hand was palm side down on the floor, one gestured clumsily at her as she gathered his thoughts. He took a few deep breaths before he answered her. Hana noticed a clean bandage around his healing leg. His color had improved and he looked much healthier.

"To offer a humble apology. To ask forgiveness for my shameful behavior from our last meeting. Please. I'm a horrendous patient...and...(he looked down at the floor, then back at her) I hate being helpless." He gave her time to reply, which she did not. He stood up and walked up to Hana, who would not look at him, but instead cast a pensive sidelong glance out the door. She thought him rather bold to be standing so close to her. "Is that all?" she muttered, finally looking at him after a moment amid a sigh. "No..." Thorin quietly. "I put that bolt on your door as a gesture of gratitude for saving my life. And...(he paused) because I want safety for you, most of all." Their eyes met, and she thought he appeared genuinely contrite. Maybe he was a good actor. He said nothing of what Balin had confided in her.

Hana slowly walked past Thorin and dropped her pack on the floor, then her cloak on top of it. She poured herself a drink of water from a small pitcher nearby, drank it, and then eyed him, defiant. "I don't need looking after, Thorin. I'm grown, I ... (she took another gulp of water) I can and DO take care of myself. I have been most of my life."

He glanced back at her as he heaved a slow breath, staring at her pensively, eyeing the marks of injury on her face. Injuries she had sustained on his account. Thorin nodded slowly, and reached for his tools. He put them in his knapsack.

"I know you can. But there may be a time, Hana….someday…you will need to let someone look after you. When you are sick. When you are old." His eyes were wells of concern, cast at her unflinchingly.

She held his stare. Hana did not answer for a few moments. She set the cup down and pulled the gloves off her cracked hands. "No. I won't, Thorin. I won't fool myself into thinking otherwise, relying on my family or someone else. Sooner or later, I will likely be left behind, either as a circumstance of death, migration or being discarded. I learned to fend for myself, and it is something I must do. It keeps me alive." Her expression was fatalistic and realistic at the same time.

The weight of her words reverberated in their ears for minutes after. Hana looked out at the floor, as Thorin watched her, then the floor, then the door. He suspired, drawing out his breath, and slung his bag over his shoulder. "The bolt on the door is simple to use, but secure. I can see…you have long been desiring my absence. I will take my leave now." He turned around slowly, paused as if readying a parting comment, and proceeded out into the woods.


	6. Contrition and the Mead Hall

Skywolf42: A hint of citrus, sort of (orange). Stay tuned. Inge: There's more apologies :( . Forgive any typing errors. I was editing this late at night (again). Thank you for your reviews, all!

* * *

Hana glanced at the door for a few seconds after he left her. Her eyes lingered on the bolt, carefully installed. She mulled over his words in her head, still infuriated that he was dishonest with her. _Who in hell did he think he was?_ She knew. She felt patronized. Hana walked over to the bolt and engaged and disengaged three times before becoming impatient and annoyed with herself. She kicked the door angrily, then cross with herself because it hurt her foot. Hana had to make better use of her time.

She was not going to concern herself with it or thoughts of him anymore. No, she would not.

That evening, after consuming her small meal of a humble soup consisting of boiled roots, herbs, and dried meat, she allowed herself a smoke of her pipe. Hana filled her lungs with the concentrate of the weed; it made them throb vigorously. Her nostrils tingled. Her mood improved, as she came off of the glorious high. It sent her into a restful sleep, free from the vexing realm of dreams. Or so she thought.

The lull did not last. Frequently after that night, Hana had been plagued by disturbing images in her dreams. The last she had that she could clearly remember was strange, non-linear flashes of images replayed in her mind's eye. Hana remembered being hidden behind a large, rounded rock face, crouched behind it with her knife drawn. She remembered throwing her knife into a Warg's grotesque face as an arrow fired from several yards away killed it, then another killing its rider. From what she could see, the archer was Kili. Only she was not with him or any of the other Dwarves. She was accompanied by an Elf, who was not making any move to help them. He was staring at her, bewildered and apprehensive.

It was then Hana woke up from the dream shaking and breathless, too perplexed to fall back to sleep.

Two days after Thorin barged into her home to install the bolt, Hana walked out into the cold midday, her mind floating, disconnected and elsewhere. The sound of her feet trodding the soggy ground muffled the din of the crows that surrounded her in the looming trees. Their subdued chorus sounded as frigid as the air around her. Long beams of welcome sunshine warmed her hut and the clearing around it; Hana hoped it would melt some more snow by nightfall. It had become slushy and messy and she was tired of it. She strode over to the well and lowered the pail down, slowly turning the crank until it disappeared into the darkness at the bottom. After about two minutes, Hana estimated it was close to full. She was preoccupied as she hauled it up, hand over hand motion pulling the rope. She reached over to detach the pail from the rope, and was unimpressed by the cloudy water it yielded. _This will need a boil over the fire before I use it_, she thought. She paused a few seconds before the crow chorus grew louder and frenzied, signaling a change. The wind rustled through the pines, gaining strength, and she stood up, ready to carry the pail back inside for boiling. When she leaned over to pick it up, she looked out over the edge of the clearing, less than a hundred yards away, Hana saw a figure approaching. The hair on the back of her neck crinkled with warning, working up into her scalp. After about a couple minutes she recognized him. His long dark hair was pulled loosely back into a ponytail. He wore a long cloak and thick boots with squared off toes. Thorin was striding purposefully towards her, looking rather aloof. The woods seemed to clear a path for him.

He looked distressed and his breath was a series of restless pants, no doubt from having walked all the way from Eldfell through the woods in the cold air. As he walked up to where she stood, Hana slowly straightened out her back, one hand on the cold, and gritty edge of the well, the other by her side. She was not ready for this confrontation, but would endure it. It would happen eventually. He stopped about five feet from her, assessing her visually. The wind blew loose strands of her hair across her face; the rest was in a plaited knot worn low on the back of her neck.

"Where have you been? I've not laid eyes on you in over a week." His eyes searched her for injury. His face read with concern, as the cold turned his breath into puffs of glowing white vapor.

Hana stared out ahead, blankly, avoiding eye contact. She waited a moment before answering him. "I have been here, getting things done. I have needed to." Then she defiantly looked him squarely in the eye. "_Why?_" She did not bother to mask the sharpness in her tone anymore. Her stance was hostile, and then she turned her back to him.

Thorin grew agitated. She picked up the pail and hauled it inside the hut. Thorin followed her up to the front stoop, wordless. She left it just inside the door and then turned around, walking back out towards the woods, and began to pick up long branches and brush from the ground to appear busy. She would later use the wood for her fires. Her feet tramped through the carpet of snow, pine cones and pine needles. He continued to trail behind her, at a loss for words. Hana turned around and cocked her head to one side, awaiting his answer. "Why, Thorin?"

He furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes with both hands held out to her as if waiting to be handed something. "Because I… care. You should know that by now." He shook his head briskly with mild annoyance.

Hana did not appreciate the head shake. "_Should_ I now? You do not care enough to tell me the truth about who you are. (He began to mouth "I don't know what you mean" but did not finish the sentence.) She waited for his rebuttal, then spoke. "Yes, Thorin, I know. I KNOW who you are _now_, heir of Durin." Hana was breathing so hard it was visible beneath her cloak. It was partly due to the cold, but also her rising anger. She was about to erupt and there was no stopping it. Hana could not keep still. "Don't bother denying it. You KNOW who I am. I have told you about my past and where I came from…(she let out a deep, shaky breath) and confided in you things I have never uttered aloud. But _YOU_!"

Hana pointed her right index finger at him, indignant. She held it in the air a second, and then lowered her arm, balling her hand up in a fist. Her eyes were alight like lightning piercing the sky during a thunderstorm. Like the one brewed in her as she spoke.

"You failed to tell me who you are. You are no simple blacksmith, but a king. The king of Erebor, no less. And you could not be bothered to tell me." Her eyes, while still ablaze with anger were glassing over with tears. Hana cursed herself for letting them show, but point of holding the tears in had long since past. He had hurt her, and she wanted him to know it.

"Don't you know what that means, to me? To our friendship? Did you think me a simpleton, that I would never figure this out? Just some stupid woman, to be used? Did you think me a_ spy_?" Thorin had never heard her speak in such a way before. She felt as if something was pressing under her rib cage, hindering her breathing. "Well I am no simpleton. I'm not a spy. I suppose I _am _a fool, though. A fool to have trusted you."

Thorin took the chance to defend himself against her verbal diatribe, though he was blindsided by what he had heard. He became noticeably perturbed. "You are misguided in your anger, Hana." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then continued. "You misunderstand me. I do not tell _anyone_ who I am, beyond my own kind! Out of caution, because there are those who would gladly see me dead. And if you must know, out of shame."

He touched his the heel of his right hand to his forehead, stressed and flustered. He was not shouting, but the tone rose in volume and his voice was growing labored. "We were driven out, Hana, and there was _nothing_ I could do to help my people. If you were in my position, I think you would have done the same! I was going to tell you, in time."

Thorin fell silent, his head quickly bowed low to the ground, breathing hard and deeply, stewing like a kettle simmering over a fire. He did not dare look up at Hana, which she interpreted in the worst way.

"You can't even look me in the eye?" Hana asked. "I don't believe you. You must have very little regard for me, to think me so undeserving of your honesty. No matter. This is no longer worth my energy." She gave a defeated wave of her hand. Voice cracking, she turned away from him, facing the well, and smeared tears from her face with her sleeve, ashamed she had let him see her in such a state, that she had not kept her emotions more controlled. She took a couple of steps away from him when she felt him grab her arm. He turned her around to face him. She tried to shake him off but he did not let go. Hana looked downward. Her hands were not free to wipe tears away and it embarrassed her. Hana spoke in a low voice. "Unhand me, Thorin." She met his eyes, teeth clenched, eyes blazing. "Now." She did not relax her fists. "I still have my free will, whether you are a king or not."

"NO! You're wrong! Listen to me!" He shouted back at her heatedly, voice guttural, anxious and wounded. "You couldn't be more wrong, Hana, about my regard for you. (His breath was pained and erratic, as if someone had hit him in the ribs.) He did not let go of her. His words reflected how hers had cut into him, a rare show of emotion. Thorin's voice had grown agonized and loud she felt his breath on her face. She was still in his grasp, restrained. His huge hands held her firmly, but not to hurt her. He held her in front of him, his hands around her upper arms.

Hana said nothing for a moment. "I'm listening," she stated finally, downcast. She was wearing her sadness and betrayal all over her face. The somber song of the crows grew louder as she awaited his answer.

"Forgive me for hiding my past from you. It truly is my badge of shame, one I have worn since the day the dragon ran us out. I did not tell you yet, mainly for that reason. But I also wanted you to know me, as a person first, not as anything else."

Thorin's usually gruff voice grew softer but hoarse, and he spoke in a tone Hana had not heard before. "Surely you can understand that."

Hana stared at him, rather dazed. "I can understand it. I know about painful memories and the burden it places on the heart. But I thought you trusted me. I would not judge you," she replied.

He continued, but the frustration was apparent. "I DO trust you. I have no higher regard…for anyone. No one else on this earth." Hana gradually raised her eyes up to him. Their eyes were linked, fixed on each other for two or three solid minutes. Both were short of breath.

He studied her face, which still bore the wounds from the ambush by the petty dwarves.

"How can I believe that?" Hana asked softly, still held in his grasp. Her eyes searched him for an answer.

"Because when I look at you, when I am with you, I…I come alive." He exhaled audibly as he finished. Thorin slowly let go of Hana's arms. He studied her confounded reaction at first, her cheeks burned red and flushed. He could see her expression soften as she processed his last sentence.

_What?_

Then, his hands on either side of her face, he gently, cautiously leaned down to touch his lips to hers, keeping her eye contact until their skin touched . He turned his head to the right. As their faces connected , he felt hers was damp with cold tears she had shed shortly before. Thorin pressed his lips into Hana's, their mouths opening slightly as he caught her upper lip with his. His hands pressed down on her jaw and Hana whimpered and suddenly jerked backwards. He let go of her again, and she panted as she rubbed the left side of her jaw. "Idiot," Thorin muttered in Khuzdul under his breath, shaking his head. Hana glanced up at him, as he met her eyes, dejected. "Forgive me, Hana, truly, I didn't mean to…I forgot. I'm a fool, I..." he backed away from her.

Hana stepped forward slowly and silenced him by kissing him back, draping one arm around his neck, then the other. She dug her fingers into Thorin's hair, reaching his scalp with her nails as she savored his lips, boldly consuming his mouth. His lips returned her enthusiasm, bearing down on hers eagerly but tenderly.

Their chests pressed hard against each other, Hana felt his pounding heart beating on her. He felt hers beating hard as well, and the curves of her upper body thrilled him. Their hiss of their deep, heaving breaths overtook the ambient sound of the crows and the wind. Thorin, careful not to touch her face even though he fervently wanted to, wrapped his arms around her waist, daring to reach underneath her cloak. His palms traveled upward, his fingertips teasingly tracing her spine. Hana released his mouth for a moment and touched her forehead to his. "It's alright," she whispered. He nuzzled her nose and cheeks with his own prominent nose, caressing her with it.

"No, it isn't. I'm sorry. But I want you to promise me something." His right thumb delicately caressed her lip and trailed down to her chin.

"What?" Hana answered quietly. She opened her eyes and faced his. His low, throaty voice made her forget the crows in the background.

"By my beard, I _never_ want to see your face marred, bruised or bloodied again, as long as I live. Nor any other part of you."

Hana moved her hands to his chest and looked up at Thorin, unwaveringly. She nodded and then spoke. "I want you to promise me something as well. From this point onward: we are completely truthful with each other. In everything." (She reached down and took both of his hands in hers). "Swear it to me, as I do to you."

Thorin gazed on her fixedly. "I swear it, Hana. Upon my honor." He nodded pensively in emphasis.

He then kissed her gently on the top of her head, held his lips there for a few seconds, and they touched foreheads as they embraced tightly.

"Do you care that I'm a Dwarf?" He asked her quietly.

Hana eyed him intently. She shook her head. "No. I never have. Do you care that I'm not?"

Thorin regarded her just as intently, arms still wrapped around her. "No," he answered huskily. The wind lightly pummeled them, whipping the ends of their cloaks and into the trees. They held each other in the warm embrace, neither wanted to let go. When they did after a few moments, Thorin held both her hands, rather insistently. She smiled wearily. She blinked purposefully, slowly.

"I'd better get a move on. I've got work to do, I'm afraid. I shan't be very interesting company today. There's water to boil before I make this evening's meal, - " she looked off to the side comically. "I have clothes to wash and onions to chop." She looked back at him as she trailed off. "What?"

Thorin let go and folded his arms across his broad chest. He smiled back at her warmly. "Are to trying to get rid of me, then?," He said with a twitching nod.

Hana put her hands on her hips sternly. "No," she answered with a jaunty raise of her brows and a not entirely convincing tone. "But I'm just…informing you…"

"Must I go? I confess, I am not much help, but I'll do…whatever you tell me to." He smirked as his arms remained folded, a loose, silver strand of his hair blew free.

Hana pinched her lips in almost a pucker, she sized him up, her eyes narrowed. "It will be boring, Thorin."

Thorin leaned in closer to her, speaking quietly. "Not for me, it won't." he kissed her quickly on the mouth. "Put me to work."

Hana smiled back at him, a slight somberness to it as she turned round, heading for the door. He followed.

Hana sat inside, beside the hearth, and spent the next couple of hours busying herself with manual work. She washed some clothes, and the rest of the well water over the hearth spent a while on a slow simmer. Thorin asked how he could be of help to her, and she had him busy chopping dried wild onions. She noticed it was probably not something he spent a lot of time doing, as he was a bit clumsy at it. Twice she looked up from her perch by the hearth, only to see him miss and the knife end up in the floor instead of over the mat she had handed him. Hana hoped he would not hurt himself, as he had proven himself an onerous patient. After about six or seven minutes of frustrated chopping, Thorin presented Hana with the onions, irregular sized and maimed. She chuckled and thanked him, then added it and a few vegetables to the simmering pot. They quietly ate a meager soup as night fell, hearing the shriek of a tawny owl outside. Thorin looked patiently, seriously at Hana as she ate, and she glanced back at him, self-conscious.

"What is it? Is the soup too savory? I think the onions give it flavor…" She trailed off and sat her bowl down in her lap.

Thorin took a sip from his spoon at looked into his bowl, shaking his head before he spoke prudently. "It tastes fine, Hana, thank you…" he answered. He focused on his bowl for a few seconds, preparing to speak again. She watched him fumble silently, then he spoke.

"I…wanted to ask you something," he muttered, the lapping fire reflecting in his eyes.

Hana widened her eyes expectantly at him, both brows raised in encouragement.

He surveyed the wall behind her and the door, delaying.

"Yes?" Hana wanted to know what kept him suddenly quiet, but she was also growing annoyed.

"In a few nights' time, I have a gathering with some of my kin and friends. I want you to be there as well. As my…my (he allowed a loaded pause) friend."

They shared a mutual lingering glance. "It will be at a fairly secretive location," Thorin continued. "It's no secret Dwarves are inhabiting the area, but when we convene…it is not something we usually share with others. Especially those who are not Dwarves."

Hana watched him, head-on. "Well, I _am_ your friend," she replied. "And I would not share this with anyone…firstly, because I don't have anyone to tell. Secondly, because it is not my business." She took a sip of water. After letting out an audible breath, she held the cup in both hands, leaned over knees. "I will go, if you want me to," she stated. "Do you want any more to eat?" She asked as she stood up and approached him. He shook his head in decline, and she motioned for him to hand her the bowl to wash. He set it down and reached for her hand. "I do," he said softly, admiring the loose, dark strands of hair that had come loose from her plait.

They spent much of the rest of the evening, quietly sitting in each other's presence as Hana worked. Their conversation was light. She was still not completely over his withholding of information, but told herself to move on, he had apologized and she told herself to forgive him. She would, in time. He left her that evening with a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze of her right hand. They made plans to meet in three day's time, at the smithy, at dusk. From there they would venture to an undisclosed location where the Dwarves would meet.

The day Hana went to meet Thorin, she had spent most of out in the woods, tracking an animal. She had noticed the tracks, deep in mud, and surmised it was a sizeable predator. Each track was four toed, similar to a wolf's but larger. The claws were longer and more narrow, the heels like rounded triangles. Whatever the predator was, it might have been a reason for scarce game in the area. Hana was tempted to stay out in the woods, searching for the animal, but thought the better of it. She was out in the woods until about two in the afternoon, and returned to her hut with two scraggy quails. She decided to take them with her to Eldfell, figuring she and Thorin would eat them before or at wherever they were meeting the Dwarves that night. She washed her face and hair, and carefully plaited her hair hanging down her back. Hana changed into her cleanest clothes, pulled on her cloak and set out into the low, late afternoon sun, quails in tow.

It was the first time she had been back to the smithy since leaving in a fury weeks before. Strangely, it felt much longer since that morning she stormed out. She felt different, something in her had changed. This time, when she knocked on the door, she was promptly met by Thorin, who let her in moments later. Hana gingerly stepped into the smithy as he opened the door, its slow creak the only sound either of them heard at first.

He smiled at her, watching her pensively as Hana adjusted her pack that was slung over her shoulder and shook her plait from underneath the strap. She recalled what happened between them the last time they were together, and felt gooseflesh raise underneath her clothes.

"How have you been?" he asked quietly.

Hana returned the smile. "Fine," she answered unostentatiously. "I brought us these, if you can stand them," she said, pulled the quails out of her cloak, wrapped in a cloth. "I suppose I can add them to a stew or something. They're um, rather gaunt, I'm afraid."

He stood in front of her, and watched her, with his hands behind his back casually.

Hana widened her eyes and gave a side nod of her head, silently asking him what the matter was. Thorin looked down as he answered.

"Thank you. You didn't have to bring anything but yourself, though." He glanced back at her, in the eye, matter of factly.

Hana pulled over a chair and sat down, heaving a deep sigh. She removed her boots and wiggled her feet, giving them a break from the constraints. She closed her eyes as she moved her toes. "I know I didn't have to. I figured I may as well, though. Game in these parts is growing more scarce by the day." She turned her head from side to side, trying to loosen her stiff neck.

She opened her eyes to see him still watching her, mildly puzzled. "When do we leave?" she asked.

Thorin did not break their eye contact. "Right now, if you are ready. I may as well warn you, they are an unruly lot," said Thorin as he pulled on his cloak, shaking his long, impressive hair out. "They mean no harm, however. " He glanced at Hana and touched his belt to ensure his blade was there. 'After you," he said, as he motioned to the door.

They trudged through the muddy road to the outskirts of Eldfell, to a small mead hall, about the size of a modest barn. As the edged closer to the door, the sounds of raucous laughter, singing, and scraping of chairs could be heard.

"Sounds like they have already downed some ale," Hana murmured, as Thorin waited for an answer to his hard, three beat knock. He smirked to himself. "Oh, without a doubt," he replied. Loud footsteps trod the ground up to the door, and an urgent voice exclaimed right behind it.

'I don't know if it's Thorin. Steady on, I'm looking!" A small window at the top of the door slid open. A beady, unfamiliar eye ogled them for a second. "Ah, it is him," said the voice belonging to the eye as the window slid back shut, sharply. The click of the bolt sounded as the door swung open slowly. A Dwarf with sharply angled brows and a hairdo of pointy reddish brown assessed them both. 'He's brought someone with him," Nori hollered over his shoulder. "Not a Dwarf. A woman."

The merriment quieted down a little as they both proceeded through the door. Dwalin, Balin, Kili, Fili and a few other Dwarves besides them who Hana did not recognize watched as she walked in, Thorin behind her. "She's safe," he bellowed sternly. "Before anyone asks, she's safe. She's…a friend." Hana thought on that word. Friend. She watched the unfamiliar faces evaluate her as she swung her pack over her shoulder. "Lovely, just lovely," Balin said, nodding repeatedly as he walked up to her. "To see you again, I mean." Perhaps Balin thought he would not, considering what had happened since she left the smithy, enraged. "Thank you," Hana answered as Fili and Kili smiled at her from afar. Kili raised his cup in acknowledgement, Fili gave a low dip of his head. Thorin had stepped aside for a minute to speak with Dwalin, when finished, he addressed two of the newer Dwarves. Dwalin walked over to Hana, who was taking in the scene around her, and handed her an ale. "Here you are, lass," he growled. "You'll need some of this to deal with these brutes." He managed a smile at her, tipped his head back and guzzled his, as he rejoined Fili and Kili at a long table close by. Hana pulled up a stool, and sat beside the fire, sipping the strong ale and watching the seated Dwarves. They all interrupted their conversation and turned to look at her a couple of times, which made her uneasy.

"What are you doing over there, Hana?" Kili asked, grinning. His face wore an exaggerated expression of hurt. "Surely we aren't that offensive," he finished with a wink and gulp of his drink. "Come join us. We need an impartial party to our, er, contest." Hana returned the smile and picked her stool up and assumed the place at the head of the table, where Kili had made a space for her. She looked around at them all, Dwalin, Fili, and the two new Dwarves watched her with inquisitiveness.

Hana nodded slowly, absentmindedly. "Right…what sort of contest is this?"

Fili smiled sheepishly at her. "We need you, our impartial party, to decide which of us has the best singing voice. " He folded his arms, nodding at her coolly. Hana narrowed her eyes as she processed his words. She saw Thorin, out of the corner of her eye, conferring earnestly with Balin in the shadows by the door.

"You can only pick one of us five here," said Dwalin, who stood up as the first volunteer. He stomped his foot as he sang, and the rhythm was joined by the others, stomping their feet and pounding their fists merrily on the table. Hana could not help but chuckle to herself as she witnessed the spectacle.

_Oh, never laugh at a troll, good sir_

_Nor look him in the eye_

_For if e're you do,_

_You will surely die._

_Aye, never laugh at a dragon, no_

_Don't dare to act so rash_

_For if e're you do_

_You will become a mound of…ASH! _(He grinned at the last word and Kili waved his hand dramatically, expecting the pause. Thorin turned round and glanced at Dwalin disapprovingly).

_Never steal from a Dwarf, they say_

_It would be unwise_

_For if e're you do,_

_The axe will see your demise!_

_Never steal another's sword_

_Or his bow, oh no_

_For if e're you do_

_You will be dealt a blow._

_My Da did tell me this, you see_

_When I was just a lad_

_He taught me to watch my back_

_And know…_(Dwalin held the note, his eyes grew wider every second)

_To always be on my guard!_

Dwalin ended laughing. The others followed, each trying to outdo the last with more gusto and bravado. Kili stood up on the table and sang the loudest of any of them, undoubtedly helped by the ale. One of the newer Dwarves, whose name was Bofur, forgot the words midway through and dissolved into giddy laughter, soaking his impressive mustache with ale. Dwalin glanced at Hana, who had been watching the performances, amused. "So what do you think, lass?" he asked as he eyed the others rapidly. "Which here sang it the best?"

Hana managed a smirk as she casually lit her pipe. "Well, I don't know," she conjectured. "All of you did a fine job."

"You have to choose one," Fili said, returning her smirk. "Only one can win the prize."

"What's that?" she asked.

Dwalin waved his cup. "Bragging rights" he answered. "And…whatever else you feel is deserved." He smiled wearily but genuinely at her. Hana shifted in her seat.

"Well..." she began. "I suppose if I must choose, I'll pick Kili," she said, flashing her teeth as she grinned. "And to the winner goes this," she reached in her sleeve and pulled out a small pouch, no longer than her thumb.

The others protested in jest when Hana announced Kili's name. "You've got to be joking, I sang my heart out just now! Kili, you can stop looking so smug," Dwalin said as she handed Kili the pouch. "You know you're no songbird." The others eyed the pouch with interest.

"What's that you gave him?" Bofur asked. The others looked at her, awaiting an answer.

"It's called Eagle's Nest", she replied nonchalantly, taking a drag from her pipe. "A finer variety of pipe weed. It's what I am smoking right now." They all looked at her, expecting more explanation. She held one hand out, palm to the ceiling. "You said whatever else I felt was deserved." Hana grinned and blew out a puff of smoke. "Maybe Kili will share if he feels like it." She beamed. Shortly after, the group disbanded somewhat, and broke into tipsy song again. Thorin walked over to join Hana, appearing remote, and brought her a bowl of stew. 'Thank you," she said as he began eating his. Hana paced herself as she ate hers, it had a strong, gamey, smoked flavor. Thorin glanced at her over his spoon. "You're welcome," he replied, nodding at her. He noticed Balin watching them from across the mead hall as the others paid no attention. "Who are these newer faces?" she asked Thorin after she finished. One of them glanced at the seated pair, focused on Hana, as if he just realized she was present and unsure as to what she was. Hana noticed one of them appeared confused, even a bit fearful. The whites of his eyes were visible, even from across the hall. "That is Bifur," Thorin answered. "If you are wondering why he looks confused (Thorin shook his head thoughtfully) he always looks like that. Probably wondering why someone like you is with someone the likes of me." Hana simpered. "What about the other one?" She whispered close to Thorin's face. Her breath was felt near his ear, which distracted him. "The one with the pointy hair?" He stopped his train of thought for a moment. Thorin turned and looked at her in the eye, and noticed the amber flecks in Hana's green eyes, and she realized she had distracted him. "I'm sorry, please continue," she said, chuckling. Thorin closed his eyes, screwed up them up quickly, and opened them again. She was all he could smell, mingled with the aroma of the Eagle's Nest smoke. She filled his senses. "That Dwarf's name is Nori, " said Thorin, becoming rather entranced.

"I know they are all a bit…rough hewn," Thorin said. "Over all, they are a stout hearted lot." He heaved deep sighs. Hana sat, leaned forward, her forearms resting on her lap as she began smoking again, tendrils of her dark hair hung loosely.

"I quite enjoyed the singing bit with them just now." She grinned slyly at Thorin, who was watching her as if they were the only two bodies in the room. "What's that mix you're puffing away on tonight?" He was sitting opposite her, arms folded, knees bent and apart.

"It's a specialty blend," she replied coyly.

Thorin nodded, and smiled to himself as he looked down at the floor, then cast his eyes once again on her without moving. "Indeed…from where?"

The right side of Hana's mouth turned up as both rows of her teeth showed. "Not exactly sure of its origins, beyond what I was told. I traded for this."

"In Briarly?"

Hana glanced at him, not blinking for several seconds.

"No, Thorin." She blew smoke out ever so slowly, then handed him the pipe.

"I'll tell you later. Try some." He looked at the pipe, his arms still folded, with oblique suspicion. She turned her head to the right, prompting him.

He took a drag, slow and deliberate. The fast acting smoke felt divine as he inhaled it, the richly herbal vapors overtook his nostrils and made him tingle to his fingertips. Hana smiled at him as she watched him close his eyes a second to relish, then opened them again on her. He heard, he saw, he felt her everywhere.

Thorin lowered the pipe down gradually, not breaking his stare at her. He handed her back the pipe, pressing it into her hand as he looked at her, then stood up with a start. "I'm stepping out for a bit….I need air." He waved her off with his hand, though Hana made no move to follow him. "Alone….I need to be alone. I'll return shortly," he said. She was puzzled, and figured her smoke may have bothered him as its aroma lingered in the air. But how? Thorin smoked a pipe himself, frequently. Had she sat too close to him, or annoyed him? Hana scowled, intrigued, in his direction as he aimed for the door, speaking to no one on the way.

* * *

Thank you, OrangeGoggles, for co-editing this opus with me. :)


	7. A Growing Hunger

Guest reviewer from 9/24: Here is an overdue update. As things intensify with Hana and Thorin's story, it takes me longer to write and make suitable for reading. Hope this is worthy! :)

* * *

Balin saw what had transpired from afar, and waited until Hana took a long heaving breath before he joined her. She was staring at the fire blankly, and turned only when Balin addressed her.

"How are you tonight, lass?" he asked politely as he sat beside her, as she pinched the end of her pipe heedlessly. After a pause, she answered Balin. "Fine," she said coolly, with a shrug of her shoulders. He looked toward the door, where Thorin had just exited, and sighed fretfully. "He's hard to figure out….Thorin is," said Hana suddenly. "I don't know what just happened…or how I offended him." She met Balin's eyes and simpered rather bitterly. She held her glance, as if prompting an explanation.

"He's a prickly one, as you know. But I don't think you offended him," Balin offered, shaking his head slowly.

Hana raised her brows at him. "Oh no? Then why did he up and walk out so suddenly? All I was doing was smoking and I asked who Nori was."

Balin faced the floor, smiled and shook his head.

"Why did he bother asking me to come with him if he's going to act this way?" She looked at the door blankly, blocking out the background noise. Then she turned to look at Balin again, at a loss and irate.

A hint of a smile appeared on his lips, as if expecting Hana to read his thoughts. "Can you not think why?" he asked her. His smile broadened. "Don't repeat this, but Thorin is intimidated by you. Intimated and intrigued. It's obvious. And he doesn't seek out just anyone's company, unless he trusts them. I think his actions have conveyed more than his words ever could."

Hana felt gooseflesh raise under her sleeves. Her cheeks turned crimson, her scalp tingled. Balin noticed her blush and continued.

"It is said things don't grow in cold, much is covered in snow, dead." He nodded emphatically to himself. "In many ways, Hana, that is true. But some things do grow in the cold. I've been watching this grow over the last few months." Hana frowned at him, and cocked her head ever so to the right, in mild doubt. Thorin walked back inside the hall, and sat with his nephews, who had moved closer to the door. He faced Hana and Balin, and scanned the room for her, and stared at her fixedly. He did not look angry, but was not smiling or laughing either. Balin leaned in close to Hana, close enough he could whisper to her.

"He does not look like that at anyone or anything else, Hana," he whispered, before patting her on the shoulder and standing up.

Hana shook her head decisively as she glowered back at Thorin. "I think your eyes are playing tricks on you," she whispered back.

Balin looked at Thorin, then at her. Balin wore a sagacious expression on his face. "I may be old, but my eyes are still sharp," he replied. He walked away, and his words replayed in her head over and over. Hana got up and left, and the heavy door closed with a creaky thud after her, delivering her into the calm night.

Her exit did not go unnoticed.

The cold night air felt good on her cheeks, as did the light, chilly mist in the breezy air. Hana looked up into the night sky, streaked with hazy borealis and a smattering of faint, almost invisible stars. The merriment inside picked up fervor again, someone had broken into song. Hana lost herself in the stars and the raucous sounds from the hall, intermingled with light thunder and the distant, mournful howl of a wolf. The wind blew through her scalp, chilling her, and Hana became immersed in her thoughts. She studied what she was certain was a constellation and she barely noticed the door creak open. The breeze strengthened, and drummed against her ears and cloak.

"What are you doing out here?" Thorin asked her, his deep, stern voice echoing sounds of reprimand, cutting through the night's natural melody. He stepped closer and closer toward Hana, as the revelry indoors only grew louder.

Hana did not look at him for a few deliberate moments, her eyes focused above the horizon. Then she turned to her left and eyed him.

"Same reason as you said earlier," Hana answered plainly. The moonlight cast a foggy bluish white light on them both. "I needed some fresh air." Thorin watched her intensely, eyes anchored on her.

"And what better way to spend night hours than watching these…" she turned her attention upward again.

"That constellation is called Ursa Major," she said, motioning ahead of them with her right index finger. "It means big bear."

Thorin narrowed his eyes at the formation, confounded. "Doesn't look much like a bear to me. Looks more like a bird."

Hana continued, ignoring his comment. "The hindquarters are brightest. That one below it (she motioned with the side of her hand) is Draco. It means..."

"Dragon." Thorin answered her before she continued. Hana sighed wistfully, a resigned sadness in her eyes as they shifted to the fainter stars above them. "Yes," she said quietly. The wind rustled through the distant trees drowsily.

"There are few things in this world more beautiful than the stars. I could watch them all night." Thorin watched her as he studied the wistful wonder and melancholy in her upward cast eyes.

"I can think of a few things more beautiful," he said steadily. Hana's eyes were set on the sky, she acted unaware he was speaking.. "They remind me of home. Before home was taken from me. They were a guide to us during the exodus. They still guide us." Thorin murmured barely above a whisper.

Hana nodded slowly, empathically. The moments that passed between them were laden and tense. A flock of migrating geese flew overhead, their bodies cast silver by the moon, their high-pitched honks sounding through the soft wind.

"You'll probably want to rejoin the others soon," Hana declared. 'They'll be wondering where you are, Thorin." She looked at him with a hint of mock scolding. "You are their leader, after all."

He gave a brisk shake of his head and snorted. "I don't need to rejoin them just yet," he said, as his low register made her heart pound. The entire group of Dwarves was singing and laughing, and seemed worlds away from Hana and Thorin.

Hana turned her head more to the left and gave him a mildly shocked look, and he looked penetratingly back at her. He turned his body toward her and gazed at Hana, and she at him. He reached for her right hand. "I behaved like a brute last time," Thorin said.

She frowned at him. "When? What are you talking about, Thorin? If you mean a little while ago, that was odd, (she nodded on "odd") but not brutish…"

"By the well. The day…the day I visited you to apologize." He stammered. "I was too forward, too presumptuous. I could not help myself."

Hana's furrowed brows relaxed when she realized his meaning. "You mean when you kissed me," she replied.

"Yes," Thorin said humbly, his look unswerving.

Hana held his hand but did not look back at him at first. She glanced down at the ground. She swallowed nervously. "I was eager, too. I don't regret that kiss. But….why…..(she met his eyes again) why did you abruptly leave me tonight? In the middle of the conversation? Did I offend you?" She asked him dubiously. "You just up and left me. All I did was ask you a question."

Thorin let out a long, hissing breath. "You really want me to tell you why?"

"Yes. Our policy of truth is fully in effect now, Thorin. Tell me, I'm a big girl, I can…."

Thorin gripped her hand tightly. "You did not offend me. You tempted me. I had to come out here to think." His interruption silenced her.

Thorin sighed, long and slow. "And cool off."

Hana erratically looked off to the right, flustered and quite embarrassed. "Oh…"

Thorin pulled her closer to him in a tight embrace. "I'm not complaining," he said. "Whatever Balin told you about me is entirely… true." His eyes were impassioned, even in the dark. He searched her eyes for some sort of reaction as the gleam of the moon reflected off of them.

She wrapped her arms around him; Thorin's swathed about her waist under her cloak and he pulled her as close as he could. He could feel her heart pounding on his chest. "Thank you for coming with me tonight," he offered. "And for putting up with me."

Hana had the feeling he wanted to tell her more, but he did not. Instead, he just looked at her mouth for a moment, and kissed it as she pushed up against him. He felt warm, even hot against her. His beard scratched her face as hers turned right, his left, and his hands lazily rubbed the groove at the base of her spine.

"What if the others see?" Hana said, inches from his lips.

He observed the painterly symmetry of her upper lip. "Let them," Thorin whispered with a hint of a smile. "If I had wanted to hide this, I would not have asked you to accompany me."

Hana thought on being introduced as his friend earlier. She thought about bringing it up then, but decided against it. Honestly, she was his friend. They were…friends. Both of them knew they were crossing the lines beyond simple friendship, but neither had the courage to admit it to each other.

Hana pulled away from him after a few moments, albeit reluctantly. They stood opposite each other, their hands joined.

"It must be nearly midnight or later by now. I should be heading home…(she sighed and looked at him). I've got the walk home ahead of me."

Thorin rubbed the veins on the tops of her hands with his thumbs. He nodded. "I understand. Would you permit me to accompany you, Hana?" He looked back into her eyes at the utterance of her name. She rolled her eyes and shook her head a bit. She could walk it alone. "Please? I just want to see you home safe."

Hana realized the sounds coming from the mead hall had waned. The lights inside were still blazing and no one had left.

"Very well," she replied, as she squeezed his hands, in a sort of prompt to make him release hers. "Though I am not sure it is a good idea for _you_ to traipse through the woods alone at night."

Thorin let go of her and followed her as they walked back inside. "I won't be," he said lowly behind her. "We will have company on our walk back. I hope you don't mind that." Hana turned around and glanced back at him. "Not at all," she answered, smiling. He returned it, wearily.

Kili and Fili had been sitting by the fire speaking with Bofur, who was regaling them with some serious sounding tale. Dwalin had fallen asleep a few feet away from them, upright in his chair, his head tipped back, mouth agape. Nori and Balin were also speaking, but stopped when they saw Hana and Thorin reenter the hall. Balin excused himself from the discussion and met them, smiling warmly. "You both were gone…a while. Missed quite a sing along. I know you are both just heartbroken to hear that." He chortled as Thorin smirked back. "Beside ourselves," Thorin retorted. "I think we are going to be on our way now. Will you be coming with us, or should I expect you along later?" He leaned in as he spoke.

Balin watched them both with a knowing glance. "I think I'll be along later," he said as he turned round to see who all was asleep. Bifur and Dwalin were asleep now. He faced Thorin and touched his arm. "There is more to discuss," he said earnestly. "Tomorrow," he emphasized, nodding.

Thorin reciprocated his nod. "Right then. I'll go collect the lads." He took a few steps until his nephews made eye contact, then he beckoned them over. As they were getting their cloaks and belongings, Thorin eyed Hana in hers briefly.

"Will you be warm enough in that?" He queried over his shoulder as he aimed for the door, his look and tone concerned.

Hana pulled on her gloves. "Yes. I'll be fine," she replied wearily. Fili and Kili were clearly out of momentum as they readied to depart. Thorin led the way out, as Hana turned around and waved with a smile to Balin. He bowed his head at her, his squinted eyes jolly and his grin saying it all. _I told you so._

The walk back into Eldfell lasted about an hour, because they stopped at Hana's hut first. Kili and Fili walked ahead of Hana and Thorin along the road, enough paces ahead so their conversation was not as easily heard. Hana heard them mutter something about Dwalin "overdoing it with the ale" and laughing as they talked. Thorin walked beside Hana wordlessly during the walk, and as they passed the lit inn, he noticed her watch it pensively. He wanted to reach for her right hand, but did not. Instead he peered over at her as she walked beside him, watching the road ahead. After a moment Hana turned and looked at him, and mirrored his tired smile.

When they got to the door of her abode, Thorin asked his nephews to wait on him as he escorted Hana inside. He unbolted it from the outside and lit a candle he saw beside her bed as Hana held his torch for him. He scanned around the inside of the humble dwelling, to ensure it was safe. Hana took the candle and lit another for added light.

"Will you be warm enough tonight?" He asked her in his bellowing growl.

She nodded, smiling brightly. "Yes, I think so."

Thorin and Hana beheld each other for several minutes in the stark contrast. The two small candles afforded them little light in the pitch-black darkness. Thorin just watched her, bathed in dramatic shadow. Hana saw sentiment in his tired eyes, it enlivened her. There was also a hunger visible that excited her, and stirred her nerves.

Thorin snapped out of his staring fog. "Well then….(he turned and looked absentmindedly off to the left, distracted) I will be going now. I will call on you within a few days, if that is agreeable." He ended the sentence focusing intently on her face.

"Yes, it is," Hana affirmed. He swung around and made for the door, but stopped when Hana called softly to him. "Good night, Thorin," she murmured. She unflinchingly took his hand and held it, sandwiched between her palms.

Thorin gripped her right as his heart hammered in his chest with violent emotion. "Good night, Hana," he answered softly, as he kissed it, his lips pressing into the veins. He held his mouth on it for a moment, and then turned and left abruptly. Hana breathlessly touched where his lips had just been on her right hand. Her fingers felt the tingly warmth left behind, as her heart beat so loudly she could hear it ringing in her ears.

Three nights had passed before he came to her door, early in the briskly cold morning. Hana had thought about a lie in the night before, since she had gotten to bed later than she wanted, but it did not happen this morning. Thorin's knock snapped her to attention, as she laid down the trousers she was mending and stood to answer it. "Is that you, Thorin?" She asked, her ear to the door.

"Yes, Hana," he said somewhat solemnly. "It is me."

Hana carefully unbolted the door and in Thorin walked, presenting himself harried and flustered. His face was faintly raw and reddened from the morning exposure, and his hands were freezing when Hana touched them. He just watched her, saying nothing at first. "Why on earth are you not wearing gloves?" She chided him, as her fingertips traced over the dry skin and nicked knuckles.

Thorin shook his head forgetfully. "Forgive me, I forgot. I will put them on when I leave," he said.

"Leave?" Hana replied quizzically. "You just got here. Have you got time for some tea?"

Thorin shook his head again. "Not today. I can't, I'm sorry. I came to tell you…I'm leaving."

He saw Hana's eyes widen in shock and mounting horror. She did not realize how obvious her alarm was until he spoke. 'Wha….," she began.

"Not permanently. I'm travelling to Selfoss." He panted, frustrated. "For a meeting of my people. All of us are going, Kili, Fili, Balin, Dwalin, Nori…we are meeting a small group of Dwarves, to try and forge an alliance, expand our support."

Hana thought aloud. "Selfoss…that is a good distance away, at least a hundred miles. Not much to it, as I recall, smaller than Eldfell…" She had released his hands, hers gripped the sides of her plain brown dress anxiously as she muttered, mostly to herself.

Thorin nodded. "Aye, a hundred miles there at least. I will be gone up to a month. The meeting will fall in late Autumn, a period of solemnity for Dwarves. It commemorates the diaspora of my kind into the mountains. It includes a three day observance of song and fasting." He spoke almost in monotone, very sad.

Hana watched the floor. "A month?" she asked quietly, her arched brows noticeable even as she faced downward.

The tone in her voice hurt him to hear. "Up to a month. I will be back before two full moons pass."  
"When do you leave?" Hana asked as she turned her back to him and slung her trousers on the back of her only chair. She sat down on it, leaning her elbows on her knees as she scratched her scalp, agitated. Then she sat upright again and wrung her hands in her lap.

"By midday today," he answered as he trod the ground heavily to where she sat. "Are you cross with me, Hana?" He asked fearfully.

She shook her head. "No, Thorin…."

"You certainly seem like you are. I only just found out this meeting was happening two days ago. We all wanted to go before the snows fell hard." He ogled the top of her head intensely as he explained himself. "Please, please do not be cross with me." He sat opposite Hana on the floor, and touched the end of her long, loose plait. He gently rubbed the hairs on the end between his thumb and forefinger, as one would a painter's brush. His eyes trailed from the end of her plait to her crown, then to her face.

"I'm not, Thorin. I - it's just a long time." She admitted, breathing deeply, her voice low. "And quite dangerous." She searched herself within for her words. "You have the mountain pass to cross, the weather could worsen, not to mention the other dangers…predators, Orcs.."

Thorin reached for Hana's hands and held both. "I will be careful. I have to return to you. If we are fortunate, they will agree, and I will be back with good news," he said as he squeezed her hands. He rubbed them with his thick, rough fingers. Hana's hands felt so small in his, even though they too were dry, they were much smoother than his own. Hana would not look at him at first. When she finally did, her eyes probed his as she suppressed tears.

"You had better come back, unhurt," she warned him. "You make an unpleasant patient, remember." Hana tried her best to suppress her tears with a wry smile.

"Yes, my lady," he answered softly. The sound of him addressing her that way filled her with warmth. He stood up with her and kissed her on the lips chastely. "I will call on you immediately after my return. It will be at night, most likely late."

"Please do. I do not care about the hour," Hana affirmed. Thorin touched her right arm above the elbow, rubbed her skin with his fingertips, then stomped out. Hana turned around, and looked into her measly fire somberly. A few minutes passed, and Thorin came back through the door, hastily and flushed. He stopped a few feet away from her.

"Did you forget something?" she asked, perplexed. He would not answer her at first. He just stood there, breathing labored.

"Thorin?" She asked him, confused.

"Yes," said Thorin breathlessly. He walked up to Hana and pulled her roughly to him. Thorin kissed Hana brazenly, his arms wrapped around her waist so tightly his fingers dug into her tailbone. She was pressed up so hard against him her ribs and stomach contracted against his between breaths. Hana broke free from the kiss and bore her eyes into his, then tightened her grip around his shoulders and hugged him as tightly as she could, as if she would have to make it last the rest of her life. Her nails dug into the back of his neck.

"Be careful, Thorin. I….be careful," she warned him.

He loosened his hold on her and acknowledged her warning faithfully. "I will, Hana." He held her right hand for a parting minute. Thorin hit the wall with a frustrated fist then departed into the bright, chilly morning.

Hana did not tell Thorin she had travel plans of her own in his absence. While he ventured northeast to Selfoss, Hana would venture the opposite direction to Vik. Vik lay partially in the woods, the bordered by a dangerous coastline broken up by very large rocks. Its inhabitants were mostly sheep farmers, but it was notorious for its transient visitors, some brought by the sea inlet. Such visitors came to deal with Vik's visitor sorcerers, witches, conjurers, of which there were many. Vik was quite unlike Briary, populated mostly by yeomen and laborers. Its trade center was simply called "the hall", and it was there Hana was headed, on high alert. Hearsay warned that it was at the hall where bounty hunters, gangsters, and sorcerers dealt. Hana was no novice when it came to such towns, but she made sure not to linger longer than necessary. Before setting out, she looked up at the sky, and observed its milky grey cloud cover. It was an indicator there was a strong chance for snowfall. Hana left the day after Thorin, and walked stealthily and earnestly through the woods. She reached Vik by early afternoon. The hall lay in the center of the small village, in the heart of the dense taiga. Before entering, she drew her hood low over her face, concealing as much as she could while still providing visibility. From the outside the hall looked like a large barn, built like the stave houses that she spotted in and en route to Vik. The base of the building was weathered and coated with moss. Outside the door was a figure standing motionless, hooded. She could not tell whether the figure was male or female under the cloak, but it was very still. Immediately upon entering the hall, Hana was enveloped in a cloud of scents, a mixture of heavy smoke, body odors, and the unmistakable odor of incense. As her eyes adjusted to the low light inside, a tall figure in a blur of dark robes whirred past Hana. It was a very tall, formidable looking woman who apparently paid no mind to her surroundings. A silver furred ferret hung round her neck like a stole, watching passers by with beady, truculent black eyes. The few people in the woman's path cleared out of her way as she exited. The woman took no notice of Hana. Hana avoided eye contact with most at the hall. It was the kind of place where making eye contact with the wrong sort would leave someone hurt, or worse. She spotted a pair of Dwarves but did not recognize either. She noticed they were dressed differently from Thorin and his kin, probably not allies of his. Hana made a mental note to tell him when he returned from Selfoss. _When, not if, he returned_. She put the thoughts of him behind her and tried to scope out the selection of wares in the hall amidst the hushed whispers of a few villagers stationed near the entrance. She stoicly observed the table of each vendor, every one a purveyor of unusual, some downright revolting goods. There were animals, live and deceased. The latter were being sold for meat or as dried, preserved trophies. That disgusted her, Hana saw the use of a dead animal for ornamental use as criminally wasteful. Hana saw weapons as well, ones she would have traded much for, but could not afford to get this trip. Warmth and food were the more pressing needs for the coming winter. She felt eyes of others on her as she strode past each vendor. One man, with most of his teeth rotten to the root, stood casually beside odd, not immediately identifiable entrails in jars. Some were whole specimens. Hana noticed one immediately, it stood out from all the others. It was a large black spider, the abdomen alone easily the size of her fist. The vendor, whose putrid breath was impossible to ignore, saw her eyeing it. "Can I help you?" he mumbled, expressionless. His mouth hung slightly open, rather maladroit. She gave pause before answering him. "May I ask from where you acquired this?" she queried, looking at the segmented legs, covered in hair as thick and bristly as a wild boar's. The man watched her warily for a moment, perceiving her as some sort of threat by his facial expression. After a few minutes he answered her. He folded his arms across his chest haughtily. Hana tried her best to maintain a straight face as the waft of his breath made its way into her breathing air. It was a challenge.

He looked down at the spider, then her. "Honestly, ma'am, I don't know of its origins for sure. It was found by a traveler, who sold it to my son. All I know of the seller was that he was a dabbler in some sort of dark magic." Hana nodded absentmindedly. She knelt down and got close enough to the jar to see its still beady, menacing black eyes glaring through the glass. The fangs were still pricked upright, as if in the attack position. The wary vendor was not blind to her interest in the creature. "Do you want it? I'd offer it to you for a fair price." I'm tired of looking at this ugly thing, to tell you the truth." Hana did not react at first, thinking about the last time she saw a spider that size. It was before she ventured into the mountains, when she was younger, before she fled the realm of the Elves. She thought on the spider specimen. The venom in it would still be fairly potent, since its body looked well preserved. The venom would fetch a good price or make a useful weapon. Hana considered this as she observed a small skull, which she guessed was that of a raven. She became a bit lost in thought as she eyed its long, sharp, beak and then remembered what she originally sought. Then she stood up. "Not today, sir. I am in need of salts, sulfur, and witch hazel, though."

He paused for a moment on her request, Hana assumed he would tell her he did not have any, going by his blank expression.

"Do you have those? I need them for the winter, to extend my fires, sort of a - "

"Flash flame. Yes, I do have those. I know what you mean."

Then he reached underneath the table his wares were strewn across, rustling through a wooden box out of Hana's sight. He pulled out two small burlap pouches, each pulled tightly closed at the lip by a drawstring. They were no larger than one of her feet. He dropped one. "My apologies, miss," he offered as he crouched down to retrieve it. Hana bent down to assist him, and as her hood fell back. The man glimpsed her face for a minute, as he held he pouches in his hand. She saw his confounded expression change and brighten a bit as he looked at her. They both stood up. Hana reached in her pocket for what she chose to trade, two of her few remaining silver pennies and a small vial of ground lichens. She pushed the items forward and gave him a mildly impatient look. "Will these suffice?" she asked tersely. He said nothing but took the items and handed her the pouches of salts and sulfur. He reached beside him for a small tube of witch hazel, eyed it to ensure it was what he wanted, and handed it to her.

"Make sure you add the witch hazel, about a teaspoon. Add this to a weak existing flame. It will help reduce any smells from the sulfur. A pinch of sulfur and two of the salts with a drop of the hazel should get you a decent fire. Is it a large hearth?"

Hana took the items and tucked them in her cloak. "No," she said. He leaned forward on the heels of his rough old hands casually, rather close to her.

"Are you married?" The man blurted out.

Hana blushed a bit, caught off guard. "No…" she admitted, her slow answer raising in tone suspiciously.

He nodded slowly as he processed her answer.

"Are you spoken for?" He then asked.

She hesitated before replying. Hana was fairly certain she was the only woman Thorin was spending time with, though there was no formal agreement between them. Then she recalled what he told her before departing for Selfoss, and the way she felt in their parting embrace.

"Yes, sir. I am," Hana answered firmly.

He shook his head, perceptibly let down. "More's the pity," he said glumly. Hana raised her brows at him in dismay. "I wasn't asking you for myself, but for my son over there. His name's Canute. He needs a wife to keep him company. You are clever and look fresh and strong." The man glanced at her, then motioned to the right and behind them with his thumb. "That's him there," he said. Canute was of average build, with a head full of sandy blonde hair. A younger version of his father. He stood at a small, closed off worktable in the corner of the hall, speaking to no one as he de-feathered some sort of large fowl. Canute looked decent enough, and gave a perfunctory bow of his head in greeting as his father motioned to him. The father made some sort for gesture in Hana's direction. Hana returned the nod awkwardly, then the vendor faced her. He glanced at her with disappointed, pursed lips as he handed her the salts.

"Keep him, er, in mind," he said as his eyes grew wide with emphasis. 'If you and your man don't last."

Hana bit her lip, sorting out his words. She tried not to let them affect her.

"Many thanks, sir, uhhhh…."

"Sweyn. My name is Sweyn. Come back by winter if you need more of the extender."

Hana thanked him and made for the door of the hall, weaving around other buyers and trying to remain unobtrusive. She had almost made it to the door when she heard catcalls, which she suspected were directed at her. Hana did her best to ignore them as she attempted to navigate her way around an obese man with four chins who was unknowingly blocking her exit. The man, his skin reddened from rosacea, chatted merrily with an acquaintance, oblivious to the woman trying to move politely past him. Hana was about to slip past him when the catcaller shouted behind her,

"Where are you headed in such a hurry? I'm talking to you, woman…"

Hana felt the anger inside her rising as she told herself, _ignore him. Don't turn around, that is what he wants, just get out of here and get home._

The catcaller suddenly touched Hana on the shoulder. "Who are you? Where are you headed?"

He had long white and gray hair tied back in a rope like tail, thinning at the top, and like many in Vik, was missing several front teeth. He was of slight build but sinewy. The bustle of the hall continued, no one seemed to notice him bothering her. It was when he touched her that Hana turned and looked at him, but not before she pulled her hand from her cloak. She was wearing her hand claws, which attached round her palm and when flexed, released small but deadly sharp little blades into the victim.

"Listen, you bitch, I am talking to you!" He grabbed her arm, and in a flash Hana flung him off violently and kneed him in the lower abdomen.

"Touch me again and I will cut off your balls and burn them while you watch. It is none of your business who I am or where I am going. Try me, fool. I will do it right here." He cursed at her as he lay on the floor on his back, legs bent as a crab's. A few people were alerted to the situation only because he lay on the floor, watching Hana as she slipped her dagger into her belt and straightened her cloak.

"Is that bloke bothering you, miss?" asked the obese man. "If so, I'll see to him, don't need that kind 'round here…"

"He isn't anymore, but thanks," Hana said curtly. She turned on her heels and left the hall, quickly enveloped in the harsh, dry cold as she ventured in the direction of Eldfell. It would a long walk home, and Hana, though afraid of being followed, kept her knife in her hand the entire way.

Hana returned safely. More than two weeks later, Thorin was still gone. Hana spent her days mostly at work, but twice had ventured into town for ale at the tavern. She eavesdropped, hoping to pick up on information about Dwarves sighted in the area. She knew longer could mean he would return with good news, but it could also mean he and the others had run into danger. Between her worries, anxiety, and recurring dream of the stabbing the Warg, Hana had many a sleepless night. One evening Hana intermitted between tending a pot over the fire and mashing some fine powder with the pestle a few feet away. She could not hear any wind outside, so it put her nerves at ease, knowing the weather had not turned any nastier. More snow had melted since earlier in the day, when she ventured outside to see what small game she could scrounge up. There was not much to be had in the way of game. Hana's trip was not completely fruitless, she returned late in the afternoon with one emaciated wild turkey and two even scrawnier quails. They were now part of a stew, which was to be her dinner for the next two nights.

Warm, orange light filled the inside of the hut as she crushed the hemlock systematically. She would need a good smoke from her pipe soon. Hana worked quietly, sitting cross legged on the floor and became rather lost in thought when she heard a familiar, loud knock on her door. She got up, shook off the cramps in her feet from being in one position for too long, and walked cautiously toward it. She cocked her head slightly toward the door. She grabbed a knife from next to the fireplace and brandished it low, as a precaution. "Who's there?" Hana asked guardedly. She was expecting no one but Thorin, but at the night hour, asked anyway.

"It's me, Hana," he answered, sounding exhausted.

It was only when she recognized his voice that Hana opened the door.

Thorin's footsteps walked across the threshold like monoliths. His face wore the signs of exhaustion and disappointment. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail. He embraced her quickly, then dropped his knapsack next to the door, followed by his gloves. He stood still for a minute, looking down at the floor, his back turned partly toward her.

Hana deduced the meeting had not gone as planned. She tread lightly with her questions.

"Are you alright, Thorin?" She asked. He nodded silently.

"Did you meet with them, then?"

Thorin sighed. "Yes."

"And?"

"It did not go well. We will not be meeting again, at least not on….agreeable terms."

Hana hesitated before answering him. She touched his right arm. "I'm sorry."

Thorin turned around and faced her. He spoke incredulously. "There's nothing more that could have been done. They were the last of our kind in this part of the mountains. No matter. This will not be forgotten when we take back our home. I remember loyalty…and betrayal."

He turned and met her eyes, returning her touch, gently. He pulled Hana into another embrace, longer this time. His clothes were cold from being outside, she was warm and welcoming.

After they separated, Thorin noticed her feet were bare. It was fairly warm inside the hut, but frigid outside. "Why in blazes haven't you got your boots on? Have you been outside today?" He asked tiredly, a mixture of astonishment and scolding in his tone.

Hana felt put on the spot. She remembered her feet were uncovered. Not only that, but her hair was loose. She had not worn it loose around him since they first met. It made her self-conscious.

"Yes, I _have_ been outside today. That's why we have supper on the fire. (She jerked her head in the direction of the pot to indicate it) My feet were sore." She spoke dismissively, wishing he would stop ogling her feet and relax.

He removed his cloak and hung it beside the door. Hana's loose, dark hair fell freely, cascading on her shoulders and around her face. Thorin was transfixed. Then his eyes traveled downwards as he saw she was wearing trousers and a loose, unbelted tunic. He could not take his eyes off of her tiny feet for a moment, toes stubby and round. Thorin could not recall seeing such small feet in a long time.

"I know, my feet are foul. Just don't look at them, please." She became frustrated as she tried to disguise her nerves, angry with herself for her untidy appearance. She had become lost in her work and simply forgot. Hana felt her face grow warm with embarrassment.

Thorin folded his arms in front of her, smiling slightly. "Never mind that. I have seen fouler." He managed a hint of a laugh as she scowled at him. "Wait 'til you see mine." Her scowl gave way to a smile back at him, glancing at his enormous feet, clad in his thick, massive boots with metal toes.

"Supper needs a bit longer. Come sit down a spell and relax." She took his icy cold hand and led him to her one and only chair, close to the center of the room. Thorin did not put up a fight. He eyed her warily.

"Now sit back."

He obeyed, and slumped a little. "Lean your head back. Just a bit, over the basin." She gently tilted his head back, her hand touching his beard for a second.

"What are you up to?," Thorin asked. He looked concerned, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Will you just be calm? I'm not going to kill you, Thorin, good heavens. Nothing weird, this is something I should have done before you left. Why do I always have to explain myself when I try to help you?" She carefully unbound his ponytail. Scoffing, she gingerly picked a couple of twigs out of his hair, then carefully separated two thin plaited coils, which had been tangled. Each was bound by a small silver clasp, minutely detailed.

"See? (Hana showed him the twigs in her palm). I'm going to wash it now. So sit back…settle down….(she whispered right up next to his ear)and _don't_ talk." She poured some hot water into a basin and walked purposefully over to a wooden box she kept beside her tiny bed. Opening it, she pulled out a small bottle of a pearly yellow substance. She assumed her own spot, beside the basin, which she had placed on a stool. Very gently, she worked her fingers into Thorin's shock of hair to wetten it. The hair was so dense, her fingers were immersed up to the base, where her digits met her hand. She observed streaks of silvery gray embedded in the almost black locks of his hair. "If this hurts, I apologize. You have some nasty tangles in here."

Thorin let out a deep, satisfied sigh, and spoke to her as if in a trance. "You are not hurting me in the least."

Rhythmically, softly, she moved her hands through his mane, often trying to pick out the tangles and the occasional bit of leaf or grime. As he sat in the chair, Thorin gave the impression of being asleep, even though Hana knew he was not. She saw his hands grasp the side of the chair at first, then relax and hang. Once his hair was all wet, she dried her hands on her blouse and dropped a bit of the yellow substance in her hand. It smelled of rosemary and lavender. As he longed for the return of her hands to his head, he looked sidewise as he watched her work, mesmerized.

"What is that?" Thorin grumbled.

"It is a soap I mixed. I use it to wash my own hair." She thought better of telling him that after working it in, making a sour face at herself for saying too much. He breathed heavier as he felt Hana's small hands start near his forehead, making their way down to the ends tantalizingly, slowly. The leisurely pace she was going at tortured him and satisfied him at the same time, awakening something much deeper inside. She carefully rinsed it with cup fulls of warm water, and wrung it dry with a towel. His hair looked and smelled noticeably better. Hana leaned to his right and whispered in his ear softly, her hand on his shoulder, "Feel a little better, I hope?" She knelt next to his chair. "I told you I would not do anything weird."

Thorin did not answer, he sat up slowly, slumped out of the chair, and on his knees in front of her, head turned, kissed her without hesitation. It was his turn to take his time. Her face, healed mostly now from the injuries in the petty dwarf attack, was utterly possessed by his large hands. He sat on the floor, legs aside, as he held Hana close to him, shifted onto her knees. She was slightly above him, her hair draped over his face as his eyes were level with her neck. Their eyes met, as they released each other briefly. Thorin noticed the flecks of amber in her greenish brown eyes, alight as they reflected glow off the fire. "Now I do," he replied softly. He would not let go of her face for a good few minutes, making up for the time they had been apart. She pushed up against him, the freshly damp spots on her tunic pressing into his chest as their mouths coalesced into a cluster of heated flesh. Hana's arms were around his neck, her fingers in his hair again as his worked their way from her face down to her neck. His left arm firm around her waist, she slunk downward a bit, as his right hand ventured past her jaw, inching deliberately, gradually, into riskier territory. His fingertips felt her pumping blood pounding in her neck, as their hearts did, his heart a mallet, throbbing into her sternum. She moved her hands from his hair, caressing his face, fingering his beard, his crept down to her clavicle. Her legs slung off to the opposite side of his, until he pulled her closer, onto his lap. Thorin relished the touch of her bone under his thick fingers, the sensation of her mouth as it gave in to his tongue, gently pushing past her full lips. Hana tortured him further as her tongue responded to his and her fingers brushed against his beard, playfully touching the edge of his ear, the other holding his face. Her hand crept along his ear like the lazy crawl of a spider's legs. When they let go of each other long enough to come up for breath, both stared at each other for a few moments. The silence spoke volumes, their eyes boring into each other, bodies interrupted, both panting. The sharp pop of the pot over the fire jolted Hana back into the present, much to Thorin's frustration. She broke free from his arms and walked urgently to the fire. He swore inaudibly in Khuzdul under his breath.

"Oh no….I hope it isn't burned," she said, stirring the contents inside. She gave it an assessing, unsure glance. "Well, it looks edible, anyway," she said distractedly, before she removed it from the fire and set it on the hearth beside.

Thorin glanced lazily over at her, a look of satisfaction mixed with mild disappointment etched on his stern face. He smiled back at her. "I am sure it is, Hana," he said, looking at her longingly. After his long, discouraging journey, he should have been hungry for food, but it was not food he craved at that moment.


	8. Scars Unseen

Thank you, luckyfourleafcloverlady and guest reviews from 10/11! Your reviews give me renewed confidence and put big smiles on my face! I hope Ch. 8 pleases you. This one was rather hard to write, not because of the actual process of typing the words, but because it sheds light on Hana's troubled and painful past, and a bit on Thorin's. Trust and vulnerability are at the forefront here. There is calm after the storm, however, so stay tuned. :)

_"You can't change what happened. And nobody's asking you to forgive. But you can't associate all men with violence." -_ Tori Amos

* * *

They took their meal quietly, eating mostly in silence as the wind began to pound the walls around them. The stew was slightly burned, but they ate it anyway. Thorin was grateful for it, despite its taste. Hana finished hers first, and opened the box she had taken the yellow soap from earlier to wash his hair. She was going over what extracts she still had left. There was still athelas, rosemary, wild carrot, ground lichens, and the newly acquired flash flame ingredients from the vendor in Vik. She closed it and rejoined Thorin, and sat opposite him, the small fire crackling behind them. She reached over for her cup and drank some water from it. She reached for his cup, prompting him for more if he cared for it. He acknowledged her with a low side bow of his head and passed it to her.

"I won't bend your ear too long about it, Thorin, I know the trip was disappointing, but…I'm glad you returned safely." She handed him the water, and folded her hands in her lap as he placed his bowl on the floor, and took the cup. He looked down at the floor broodingly, and drank his water. Thorin took several loud gulps before placing it in front him, empty.

"I'm glad I did too. I told you I would. I just wish it had been a successful trip."

Hana did not want to push him too much further tonight. "Did any good come from it?"

Thorin slowly resumed eye contact with her. "Some did, I suppose." He flexed his hand forward at her as he spoke to stress his point. "I know who to count on in the future and who not to. I know who my friends are. I shan't forget those loyal to me." His brows were raised as he recollected what positive points he could. He exhaled with audible fatigue.

She nodded in silent agreement, and then he looked at her intently before speaking. "You are one of them," he said softly.

Hana held her hand out for his bowl to soak before washing. He shook his head. "I will do that, Hana," he said as she got up to soak them. "Please stay here. I have been without your company for weeks." He reached for her free hand as her other held the dishes.

Hana heeded his request and set the dishes down. She wiped her hands on the front of her tunic. "Tell me of your activities while I was away," Thorin spoke quietly, but the tone of his voice was slightly less glum. He scooted closer to her and held her hands in his.

Hana took a deep breath. "Mostly boring, mundane tasks. I hunted with spotty success, repaired the rope on the well out there, went to the tavern a couple times, and...I ventured into Vik. "

His tired eyes grew more alert. "Vik?" Thorin's heaving breaths echoed mild reproach and disapproval. "Whatever for?"

Hana's brows arched slightly. "Fire extender. Flash flame ingredients. I will likely need them for winter."

His stare was intense, a mix of concern and displeasure. "Could this trip to Vik have waited until I returned?" he asked.

Hana shook her head skeptically. "No, it could not have. I may not have the luxury of extra firewood this winter, Thorin. I am planning ahead. By all the signs I have observed, it will be a rough winter."

His glance lowered as he looked off to his right, fixated on her rolled up sleeve. He clasped both of her hands gently. "I will get you wood. And whatever else you need."

He moved closer to her, then sat alongside Hana, her knees tucked up to her chest, her back to the fire, he in a similar pose facing toward it. "I have to look after myself, remember?" she asked him.

He touched her chin gently. "And I respect that. But we have been looking after each other since we met. You know we have. Please let me help you, Hana." His hand moved to her right cheek as their gaze remained fixed. "There is no weakness in allowing someone to care for you." The statement resounded in the room like the sound of their breath. Hana's insides felt like they were burning. He summoned every shred of self-control he had to not pick up where they left off before their meal.

"Please stay tonight," Hana blurted out before she could stop herself. She shocked herself with her forward manner. "You can sleep there. I will sleep by the fire."

Thorin shook his head disagreeingly, and mustered up a slight laugh. "Never. I have spent much of the last two weeks sleeping on hard floor, or the bare ground outside. I will be just fine there, Hana." They both stood up, facing each other. Thorin touched her upper right arm gently. "Are you sure you want me to stay tonight? I can walk back to the smithy. I'll be fine. I'm armed." He motioned to his weapons beside the door in his knapsack.

"Yes," Hana said without hesitation. "It would give me peace of mind."

Thorin interlocked his hands with Hana's and contemplated her, his lips hinting at a smile. "As you command me," he answered. They kissed quickly, chastely. Hana handed him some bedding, and he laid it out on the floor before the hearth. He removed his boots and heavy belt and she washed her face with a damp cloth. Both averted their eyes, though tempted to do otherwise when they could hear each other preparing for bed. Hana almost got in to bed, but abruptly walked across the room in her loose nightdress. Thorin made no attempt to look the other direction as she passed, and watched her check the bolt on the door. She gave it a forceful push to ensure it was secure, her form noticeable under the fabric.

"Just checking it," said Hana quietly.

"Aye," he answered, enjoying the view. "A pleasant sleep, Hana. Many thanks."

She smiled back at him ponderingly. "Of course. I wish you the same." Hana got into bed; they both glimpsed each other once more before she blew out her stubby bedside candle, almost a pool of knobby wax. The fire was left, lapping and cracking listlessly. Hana heard Thorin shift a few times, but the sounds of the night were soon joined by deep, heaving breaths from the floor as he fell asleep. Hana turned over on her side, her back to him, happy he was back with her. She drifted into a state of contended languor as she fell asleep shortly after.

Hana woke before Thorin did, to the warm, insistent sunlight streaming into her hut. She quickly rose and made her bed, then sponge cleaned herself behind a blanket she pinned up for privacy. Thorin showed no sign of stirring immediately as she then dressed herself, pat dried her hair. She plaited and coiled it loosely at the base of her neck, a few stubborn strands fell around her cheekbones. Hana took care as she tread lightly across the floor, then stole outside, closing the door behind her. As it closed, she heard him shift in his sleep as the draft of cold air crept into the small room.

Hana relieved herself in the trees behind the well, then washed her hands in a small basin she kept beside it. She refilled it with clean water, and heard her door open as the rope creaked and scraped with each tug. She could see the bucket emerging from the darkness at the well's bottom. She did not know how long he had been watching her, but knew he was there.

"Can I help you?" he asked as he watched her pull the bucket into view, water spilling over the sides. She was flushed from the cold and the exertion, but he could not take his eyes off of her.

Hana gave a final tug with a grunt and detached the bucket carefully, then lowered it the floor, gasping. "No," she answered. "I've got some bread for breakfast, and some raw vegetables if you care for any."

The right side of Thorin's mouth curled into a smile. "I do, if you will join me." He leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded. He had clearly washed his face, and his long hair was gathered into a loose ponytail again.

"I will. I'm headed inside right now. We can use some of this for tea," she said, lifting the bucket as the water sloshed over the sides.

A large barred owl watched them suspiciously from the branches nearby. It made no sound at all but the rustling of the limbs as it shifted.

Thorin saw it and narrowed his eyes in assessment. "He's a sinister one," he said, nodding his head at it.

Hana turned around and looked. "He's always there. Keeps the mice away, so he's a help to me." She chuckled. The owl twitched its head and blinked its obstinate, slanted eyes at them both, as the feathers on its neck pricked stiffly upwards and on end with agitation. It did not seem at all bothered by their presence. She tipped a bit of the water out into the earth, then carried the bucket inside to boil. Thorin followed her, closing and bolting the door behind them.

Hana set out two portions of a hard, tough rye bread and raw rinsed vegetables for them both, a large carrot broken in two, and a radish each. She handed Thorin his in a small cloth, then sat beside him as they ate it. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes as they ate voraciously.

"I will be going back to Eldfell later," Thorin announced between eager mouthfuls. He chased the bread with the tea she brewed. "And I would very much like it if you came as well. I know you have work of your own to do, but perhaps after…"

Hana smiled timidly as she waited for him to continue. She waited a respectful few minutes before answering him. "I will. But I must hunt first. Maybe I can bag a couple more birds before the heavy snows fall. It is that or I will be eating a lot of crows and puny rabbits this winter." She took a long gulp of her tea.

Thorin eyed her with wonder and a hint of a smile. "May I join you and we venture to Eldfell afterwards?" he asked Hana hopefully.

She set her cup down. "That would be fine," Hana replied, nodding.

Her happiness warmed her inside. _It would be more than fine_, she thought.

Hana and Thorin set out in the direction of Eldfell, through the cold, tenebrous woods. She was armed with her blades and bow, but only four arrows in her quiver. They did not talk much to each other while stalking through the brush, but did motion. The wind was weak but noisy enough to muffle the sounds of any large game passing through. They were out about an hour, stealthily creeping through the woods no more ten yards apart when Hana gestured to him. She spotted something, and it was a target of substantial size by the way he saw her focusing on it. Thorin quickly strode toward where she positioned herself. Hana raised her bow and aimed the arrow, at what Thorin could not immediately see. She fired it, then closed her eyes and looked downward for an instant, disgusted with herself. He watched her walk toward the target, which was a deer. Hana had shot it below the neck, in the ribs, but the animal was lying on the ground, struggling. Thorin watched as Hana drew a knife from her belt, stepped behind it and swiftly slit the dying animal's throat, as she ended its suffering. His heavy steps grew louder as he walked up to where Hana knelt. The ground was soon soaked with warm blood, streaming from the deer's open wounds.

Hana cursed herself. "Damn me," she muttered, shaking her head as she looked at the creature.  
"What is the matter? You got a deer. That will be a quite a few meals." His tone was optimistic. She retrieved her arrow, he helped her bag the animal, then Hana wiped her hands.

"It was in pain, Thorin. I try to aim so a target dies instantly. Quicker death means less work for me, and less suffering for the animal."

He shrugged and eyed her empathetically. "You did well. You cannot always be so hard on yourself."

She stood up and slung the bag across her shoulder. "I cannot shoot an arrow like I used to. That is the real problem. I have grown rusty. I suppose I don't need to hunt any more today, with this. I may stop along the way if I see any plants I need. Are you ready to head back?" She asked him. Her breath blew a white cloud through the biting cold.

Thorin nodded. He could tell she was irate. He watched her, hood drawn up and the sack across her shoulders. "Let's move on, then," he said.

The smithy was dark and quiet when they entered. A note on some battered parchment lay on the main table in the smithy, and Thorin lit a candle before reading it. He held the candle to it as he laid it flat on the table, reading with furrowed brows.

Hana laid the bagged deer down on the floor and then watched him read. It was written in Khuzdul, in a hurried hand. "Is everything alright?" she asked, concerned.

Thorin folded it and placed the note under a small cup on the table. "Yes, everything is fine," he answered. "My nephews, Balin and Dwalin are returning to Selfoss in a week, to try and renegotiate with the other Dwarves. I think it will be a fruitless venture, however." He noticed her standing with her hands erect, as they were still dirty.

"Where's your well?" Hana asked tersely. "I need to wash these and then get a few bucketfuls to dress the carcass."

Thorin shook his head in agreement as he folded the note up and tucked it under the candle. "Forgive me – it is out here," he said anxiously as he walked ahead of Hana into the late afternoon light. The sun was already beginning to lower. He led Hana to his well, abutting some woods, about fifty yards from the back of the smithy. He watched her as she rolled up her sleeves, and then he helped her hoist the carcass onto a low-lying tree limb to drain it.

"Sorry if I seemed curt just now," she said breathlessly, already tired for hauling the animal back into town. "But the sooner I can get it dressed and dried, the longer the meat can be preserved." The flesh made an unpleasant ripping sound as she pierced it at the neck, then cut carefully through down to between the hind legs. Slowly the remaining blood oozed out, and she peeled back the layer of fur and the skin, starting with the epidermis. Thorin watched her as she worked.

"Where did you learn to do this?" he inquired, intrigued, as she gingerly pulled the skin off the carcass.

Hana stopped a moment as assessed her work. Her hands were covered in blood, and she had smear of it across her left cheekbone. She was breathing heavier than usual, as she was fatigued from carrying the carcass and her hands barely stopped moving since she began to dress it.

"I was fairly young, probably about fifteen," she replied. "Went with learning how to use a bow and arrow. Luckily for me, I can still do _one_ of those with some success," she grumbled sourly as she began to remove the deer's entrails and placed them in a pail underneath where the carcass hung.

Thorin noticed her thick, dark hair had begun to unravel from the bun she was wearing. Her plain brown tunic was remarkably clean considering her day's activities, her trousers were a bit dirtier, the ends tucked into her boots. He marveled at how unassumingly beautiful she was, even with bloodied hands and untidy hair. Her long eyelashes curled upward, her green, intensely focused eyes alight as she turned to look at him with her answer.

She dropped the intestines in the pail, splattering blood, and rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. She caught her breath a moment.

"Wait, Hana," Thorin said softly as he stepped forward. He took a cloth from his belt and dipped it in one of her smaller vessels of clean water, a ceramic pitcher. With it well moistened, Thorin stepped forward and gently wiped the smears of blood off her face, the freshest one on her forehead. He held her face still at the chin with his free hand.

"Thank you," Hana said sheepishly as he stepped back. She felt her face grow hot as he ogled her.

"Of course. I am going in to boil some more water and get supper started. Will you be long?"

Hana shook her head, panting, looking at what remained of the hanging deer. Then she mustered up words.

"Not too much longer. An hour at the most."

"Call me if you need help," he reminded her. "I'll come out."

Hana shook her head in agreement, and glanced at him as he touched her shoulder. She placed her hand on his briefly. Then Thorin retreated back into the smithy.

Hana was out exactly another hour. She cleaned up after herself and ventured inside to join Thorin. After their meal, which included boiled roots and some of the venison Hana had shot, Thorin got out his pipe and lit it as they sat outside the door of the smithy together, reveling in the quiet and the sounds of the coming night. She was smoking hers, watching the sky, mesmerized. The stars were out in full force again that night. A light wind blew towards them, cold. She turned and glimpsed fondly as it gently blew Thorin's bound hair. Her eyes traced the streaks of silver that highlighted it from his hairline to the ends.

"I ought to be heading back, Thorin. I will leave half of the deer with you. I'll take the other with me."

He snorted. "Never. You shot it. You bagged, dressed, and gutted it. I slung some of it over the fire and cooked it and that is all." He held his pipe upright in his right hand after a savoured drag. He looked to his right, where she sat beside him on the front step. "I will not take the spoils of your hard work."

Hana smirked to herself as she inhaled the glorious smoke. "Well then I guess it will rot," she declared simply. "It would be a shame, you know, to waste that."

He returned the half smile. She knew he was, even though she looked ahead of them both, fixed on the stars. "Woman, your stubbornness abounds," he said throatily, eyes looking forward.

Hana's smirk turned victorious. "Takes one to know one," she replied.

They faced each other; Thorin's smile growing as broad as Hana's. She appreciated it, as those smiles were few and far between.

"I _should_ go, Thorin. If I don't soon, I will likely fall asleep here," She said wearily, stretching her neck and back. Her neck cracked as she flexed from side to side.

He did not break his glance at her. "You will hear no objections from me if that happened," he declared. "Quite the contrary."

Hana admitted to herself she did not feel like traipsing back through the woods to her hut at this hour. But she also was not sure what the night would bring. Temptation was at work with other feelings brewing in them both. Feelings neither of them had the courage to admit that night, but were plainly worn on both their faces.

"You asked me to stay with you last night, when I returned from my travels. Why?" He set his pipe next to him.

Hana looked down at her feet as her scalp became prickly. "Because I had not seen you for a long time. And I wanted to ensure you were safe."

That was partly true.

He leaned in close enough to her she could feel his breath on her face.

He nodded as he spoke. "I ask the same of you tonight, for the same reason. Please stay," he rasped, as his massive hand touched her right cheek gently. He held it there for a few seconds, then his fingers lightly traced her jawline.

Hana's heart hammered her insides. "All right," she answered quietly.

After the cold and nightfall sent them back inside, Hana noticed the fire had weakened. She asked Thorin if she could try the extender there, and he agreed. He watched as she crouched down before the hearth, the orange glow illuminating her face, and mixed pinch size amounts of the salts and hazel together. She tossed it into the waning flame, as one would birdseed to a flock. After a few seconds, the flames showed signs of life with an audible whir. Hana's pleased side smile showed again as they both saw the fire steadily grow. It looked like her trip to Vik would not be a waste after all.

"Is that the extender you just used?" Thorin queried as he stood behind her, fascinated.

Hana nodded. "And if I can make it last, it will help me during winter. The vendor who sold me that was rather forward. Forward and a peculiar sort," Hana said. Thorin frowned slightly as he took a seat beside her. "How do you mean?" he asked. Hana's lips turned upward as she smiled to herself. "He had some rather dark specimens. Seemed a bit annoyed by me at first. And he asked me if I was married." She spoke casually. Thorin froze his eyes on her. He quickly grew more alert. "Apparently in an effort to marry off his son. I think it was because he saw me eyeing a preserved spider carcass. He seemed eager to unload both the spider and the son," she said, as she laughed it off. Thorin looked at her anxiously. "What did you tell him, if I may ask?" he inquired of her.

Hana stared off ahead, watching the wall, expressionless. She sighed. "I said I was not, of course. I probably never will be. He didn't pursue the point much further. It was a trivial conversation," she muttered to herself in monotone, with a hint of regret. She urgently wanted to change the subject, upset she had mentioned the conversation. Thorin looked down at his lap in thought, then at her to his right. "Why do you say that?" he asked. "I'm rather surprised you are not, to be honest." Hana's eyes grew alert at his question, she shot him a sharp look. She would not speak for several moments and focused on the space in front of them. Thorin was sure he offended her. "Forgive me, Hana. Please."

She gulped nervously and began to bite her lower lip.

"Why do you want to know?" She demanded as she turned his direction. "Why aren't you, Thorin? What does it matter?" She was irate and uncomfortable, but tried to remain composed.

Thorin didn't answer. He just set his cup down on the floor between them and focused his attention even more intently on Hana. She squirmed where she sat and her cheeks grew hot, she was clearly on the defensive. She sat cross-legged, absentmindedly fidgeting with the hem of her trouser leg.

"It doesn't, I suppose. It is…none of my business. I was just curious, someone like you would hard to ignore." Thorin offered meekly.

Hana's cheeks were turning the color of ripe beet innards. She tried her best to speak with convincing confidence. "I…"

"Go on," he said calmly.

"The main reason I left home was because of an Elf. An Elf man. I knew him since I was a child; I grew up knowing him as an older brother sort of figure. We were close." Hana shifted uncomfortably where she sat.

Thorin held his own pipe in his hand, and spoke out of the side of his mouth as he inhaled. "What happened?"

Hana watched the fire in a stupor, her mind a windstorm of thoughts. She became preoccupied with the variegated remains of the logs burning. She waited a moment before answering.

"I always saw him as a kind figure. He was my friend. I never had any reason to fear him, or fear being alone with him. I thought I didn't, anyway. I suppose I was too naïve, too trusting. When we went out hunting together, or were alone in the woods, I felt completely safe. Until one day…he…crossed that line and revealed his true character." She pulled a thread on the trouser leg hem, and fiddled with it agitatedly.

Thorin's pipe was out of his mouth and he held it like a peculiarly shaped baton.

"He what?"

Hana held back, then took a deep breath and exhaled erratically, as if she were pulling splinters of glass from her hands. Her eyes were frozen ahead of her. "One day, when I was twenty five, we were out walking together, along some of the rocky terrain quite a ways from the mainland. Close to a stream, I can still hear the sound of running water flooding my ears. I wanted to point something out to him and he was a few steps behind me. I think it was a hawk. I called out to get his attention, he did not answer. Instead, he followed me wordlessly. When I turned to face him, he took a few steps towards me and slammed me hard against the cold rock, presumably to subdue me, and…(Hana sighed, looked down at her lap) and…before I could process what was happening, his mouth was all over me. He began touching me, everywhere. I kept trying to push him away and told him to stop, his mouth and hands hurt intensely. I did not want it. This is someone I had seen and treated as an older _brother._" She stopped and looked at the popping embers, very still. She wrung her hands again, agitatedly in her lap.

Thorin dropped his own pipe on the floor and the thud of impact sounded offensively loud, more than it should have. "Did he stop?" He asked softly.

Hana abruptly turned her face opposite his. He immediately felt he had overstepped. "Forgive me, Hana, it's not my busin-"

Hana shook her head. Her tone became sharp. "You wanted to know why I wasn't married, Thorin, so, I am telling you. No, he did not. When I tried pushing him away, he told me he had been waiting years to do it. He reached under my clothes, under my tunic. It made me feel sick, his hands on my skin. He had ripped open my trousers but stopped when I saw my chance to save myself and bit his lower lip as hard as I could. It drew blood and I pulled a knife on him. I thought that would make him stop, it only encouraged him. He tried to wrench the knife from my hand and I kicked him hard, in the groin. I slashed him in the arm, right here (she outlined where forearm and upper arm met on her right arm). He told me to watch my back because…he always took what he wanted. I ran as fast as I could back towards the mainland, and could not sleep for days afterward. I didn't know what he would say about me to my father or anyone else, no one would believe he was capable of such action_. I_ didn't believe him capable."

Thorin was bristling, and stood up, facing the fire. He sighed loudly, weighed down with emotion. "Did he leave you alone after that?"

Hana looked up at him and shook her head. "I slept with my doors locked, and made a point of not being alone, except when bathing or using the toilet. The others saw it as annoying; they had no idea why I suddenly behaved this way. I had sort of made myself a bit of a loner since reaching adulthood, joined only by my few friends. One night he cornered me, said he was returning the favor. I have no idea how he got in my chamber, unless he somehow got past my father's servants. He was there to rape me. He told me so, said he would be the first to take me, even if I did not come willingly. Said he preferred it that way. I tried screaming and elbowed him in the stomach. He whispered in my ear he enjoyed a struggle, then silenced me and said if I told anyone he would take what he wanted and leave my body for the beasts outside Rivendell's borders. No one would notice the mortal bitch was gone, anyway. He started by taking my hand and proceeded to break every finger (she held up her right hand). Bent each one, all the way back, I heard every digit crack like a branch. It was excruciating. The thumb was the worst. As far as injuries go, broken fingers are minor, fairly quick to heal, unless - it happens to be your stronger hand. He was about to break the left, and dropped his trousers as he took my left hand. I heard them fall to the floor, he had ripped the back of my gown open. The only thing that stopped him was the sound of people coming to speak with my father. They were right outside my door, approaching it. He stopped abruptly, only after slamming my head into the wall, leaving a large wound on the side. His vile breath blew in my year, he said next time, it would hurt worse. I felt dizzy and could feel blood running down my scalp. He then stepped outside my room and if anyone saw him about in our residence, no one would have thought twice. He spent a lot of time there. But…I knew he was not finished."

"And you're right handed." He spoke through clenched teeth. She nodded. "Recovery was slow. I was slowed down in everything, which was what he sought. He knew I would not be able to defend myself with one functioning hand. My father, acquaintances, they asked me what had happened. I lied and said I had hurt myself through clumsiness. I experimented with and learned a lot about medicine, though, which I suppose is a positive….and became somewhat ambidextrous." Hana sniggered bitterly. "An Elf maid I knew as a girl told me a mere week later she and my attacker planned to marry soon. She was oblivious to what he really was, and I feared for what would happen to her if she ever told him no. She went through with it anyway. I knew no one would believe me. Shortly after, my father left for the Greenwood for several months, and he was my one true ally. The one person who might have believed me. I did not want to tell anyone else, I was so humiliated. I was miserable, petrified. So I fled. I did not tell my father anything, and when he left for the Greenwood, he had no idea I'd be gone when he returned."

Hana wiped tears from her cheek with the heel of her right hand, ashamed. She felt pressure and pain under her ribs as she stopped herself from crying aloud.

"It looks like you can still use the hand, to an extent?" Thorin said tentatively.

"I can use it fine now, but third and fourth fingers did not heal properly. Hana held up both hands side by side to demonstrate. Her right fingers were clearly more crooked than the left. The two middle fingers bowed toward each other slightly at the tips, knuckles prominent. It was more apparent on closer viewing. They looked like the beginnings of arthritis.

Thorin, still standing, took a step towards Hana and cautiously touched his hand to the back of her head, his fingers in her hair. He could still feel her cringe slightly at his touch, slowly she relaxed a bit. Hana stared down at the floor.

"What is his name?" Thorin asked noiselessly.

Hana did not glance up. She waited a few moments before answering him. Hana mouthed silent words before the name left her lips. "Daervrethil," she said.

"I have not told this to anyone since it happened. I have not uttered his name in five years." She leaned forward over her lap, her head aimed downward as she allowed herself a moment of recuperation. Suddenly Hana felt as though she would be violently sick all over the floor.

"Where is he now?" He did not try to mask the concern in his tone, or the anger. She knew by now the slight deflection of tone in his voice that signaled when he was cross. Thorin, still behind her, seemed to loom over her, but she felt no fear.

Hana sat up, scoffed and shook her head. "Probably still at home, making everyone around him believe the lie that he is." The look in her eyes echoed her morose tone. 'So you see why, why it is hard for me to trust, especially men," she said dolefully. "There have been none since. But, I'm getting better at trusting." Hana wiped her eyes again and sighed loudly. "And you see why I carry those (she motioned to her knives beside her boots) and my hand claws wherever I go. Uuhhhh….(she groaned and shook her head in disbelief)..that was harder than I thought it would be." Hana wiped tears from her cheeks with both hands, mortified.

Thorin strode over to her cup and filled it with ale. "Just a little, please," she said, her thumb and pointer finger almost pinched to show how much. He poured it only a fourth full and handed it to her. "Thank you," she murmured. "This helps a bit. As does that," she declared, pointing to her pipe. She finished the ale in a few sips. It was not her first choice of beverage, but it helped after the heavy story she had just shared. She lit up her pipe again shortly after. Thorin sat to the left of her again and surveyed the vulnerable, rattled woman beside him, his mind racing with her revelation and conflicting emotions. Several loaded minutes passed, as Hana composed herself and rubbed more tears away with her sleeve. They listened to the flames hum and crack against the reflective quiet of night. There were several minutes of silence as Hana settled down.

"Are you feeling a little better?" he asked timidly. Hana finished the ale off with a sip and put the cup and pipe down in front of her. "Yes, thank you. I guess that's enough gloom for one night, eh?" She scoffed and breathed in a lazy drag of weed.

"I'm sure someone of your status has more interesting a romantic past," Hana said as she simpered at him. "I'll bet you had more than a few admirers." Her fingers pinched the end of the pipe. "Most of them women, I'm sure."

Thorin turned to her, his facial expression growing stiff and broody. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, rather affronted.

"Well, you're a king, Thorin. You can't absorb into the scenery, into obscurity, like a commoner could. Like I could." She gave him a shrug and a raise of her brows finishing the sentence. It was true, and he knew it.

He blinked slowly at her, and Hana saw him blush. Usually, it was she who was blushing. Thorin had situated himself next to her, cross-legged as she was, facing the hearth. He gaped downward, breath heavy. "I'm not innocent…..if that is what you mean, Hana," he admitted. "Far from. There have been two before the dragon attack. One was a fellow Dwarf, her name was Breda. She had flame colored hair and wove the most impressive tapestries and banners I had ever laid eyes on. She was a distant cousin of mine. Our families decided we would marry, and we entered the state of azlâf…"

""Azlâf?" Hana repeated, puzzled.

"It means betrothal," Thorin continued. "But she wanted to pursue her craft, and was in love with another. (He motioned expressively with his right hand). Breda was despondent. She was my first, I her first man. It was…awkward. Neither of us wanted to forge ahead with the union, and we broke it off, parting as friends. Breda and her female companion went to live in the mountains, and I never saw her again."

Hana was watching him so intently she was not blinking. "So she could still be alive?"

He nodded. "I hope she is," he said emphatically. "I pray she is happy. She was fortunate, to leave when she did."

He surveyed the ends of his boots, preoccupied. Hana passed him a cloth as she noticed his forehead was sweating. He took it and wiped his brow, and nodded at her in thanks.

"The second was Rosamund, the daughter of a Dale based merchant. I met her when I accompanied my kin on a trade meet with her father. She was tall, blonde, and bold. A hot-blooded beauty. I lost my head with her, ours was a torrid affair. Our families, if they knew, looked the other way because they had a mutual alliance. I was not her first. I should have been wiser about her, but was not." Thorin groaned a little and shook his head, barely. He paused a moment.

"I learned a year into our affair she was becoming unfaithful; partly because I told her I would not marry her. Rosamund had an appeal that many a man could not ignore, but she knew it and used it to her advantage. I mourned the end of that affair, and her demise. She and her family almost certainly perished when Smaug came and laid waste to Dale."

"Why wouldn't you marry her?" Hana asked bluntly.

Thorin studied her verdant eyes, which had grown more attentive. "I did not want to. She would not have made a good wife, Hana. She made it clear she did not know if she could stay with me and only me for life."

Hana was trying not to show her discomfort. "I am only being honest with you. Does it bother you greatly to hear?" he asked.

She relaxed. Hana leaned her head back and contemplated his question, then sat upright again. "It does not bother me….greatly. I appreciate your honesty. They were part of your past, Thorin. Before you met me… before I was even born. What's in the past is done." She looked away from him at the wall, then slowly faced him again. "Did you love them?"

He delayed before answering. "At the time, yes. Not anymore. Breda, more as a close friend I'd do anything for. Rosamund was a grand passion. Now they are but memories to me. As you said….in the past."

"Yes, indeed," Hana agreed, undisturbed.

"I have seen a few women since the exodus who have caught my eye and I have might have looked. I'm not dead yet. But I thought that part of my life was over. I accepted it, until about four months ago."

Hana felt her scalp constrict again. She fidgeted where she sat.

"You struck me like a force of nature." His gruff voice froze her on the spot. Hana swallowed nervously.

"In a good way, I hope?" Hana ventured. She noticed the specks of light reflecting off his eyes.

"Most definitely, in a good way. You put me in my place, you listen without judgment. And you saved my life."

Hana smiled, pleased and touched by his words. Thorin watched her smile, inches from him, and smiled also with contentment. "Thank you, Hana," he continued.

"For all that? You are welcome, Thorin." She genuinely meant it.  
"Not only for that. For the smile. I…it warms my heart to see you smile like that, like nothing else can."

He gently touched his left hand to her cheek and pushed his fingers back, into her loosely bound hair. They both leaned forward and embraced tightly, as Hana turned her face into his neck and inhaled him. Thorin rubbed his big palms across her back and held her a few minutes. Neither of them made any attempt to let go. When they did, he gently touched her chin, rubbing his pointer finger against the side as his thumb tucked underneath. They kissed painfully slowly, grazing their hot lips together as their tongues gradually overlapped. Hana's hands pressed onto his chest. They languished in their slow longing this time, savoring their kiss to the greatest.

"And for these," he rasped, planting short, repetitive kisses on her mouth between his words, murmuring with delight. "I'll be needing more (kiss) of these (kiss) as it gets colder." He finished with a longer one.

Hana grinned at him, inches from his face as she rubbed her chin on his bristly beard. "I think that can be arranged."

Thorin abruptly opened his eyes at her . He took her slender right hand off his chest in his, as he carefully spread her cracked, dry fingers into a fan, tracing over the small, bent joints. He glanced down at them with sorrow, as he was reminded of how they were damaged. He lightly rubbed her rough knuckles with his fingertips, then her stubby, short nails.

Thorin let out an elongated, grim sigh. Then he pressed both his palms to her cheeks tenderly. "You know I would never harm you." His dark irises burned right through her like the remnant tinder in the hearth.

Hana opened hers lazily and stared back at him.

He looked blankly at her, in both eyes, awaiting an answer. "I would sooner die," he declared emphatically, as the whites of his eyes grew prominent.

She nodded, as he relaxed his hands and they slipped down to her shoulders.

"I know you wouldn't," Hana answered plainly. "That is why I am here with you right now, Thorin."


End file.
